Store the Leftovers
by cornerstreetshop
Summary: I only had to find my brother in a vampire bar; the aftermath - the twisted and redundant aftermath - was not my concern that first night.
1. Chapter 1: Throw Out Mama

"Please," I moaned as a stray tear slid salty into my mouth. "Just let me in, I'm not trying to trick you or anything."

Standing underneath the artificial light that became synonymous with bouncers outside of clubs so that IDs could be checked, I had stopped crying about an hour or so ago. I didn't feel the pressure of the tears behind my eyes anymore and my nose stopped running but I still looked like I applied garish red eye shadow and the random tear would stream down my face.

I felt numb, though, as numb as one can feel trying to get into a club while completely underage and underdressed. My only concern was trying to convince the woman in front of me that I was only interested in getting my brother – not the booze, not the boys and certainly not the bites – and so far she seemed rather apathetic to my whole being.

"And let's say I do risk the bar's license and the owner's personal livelihood, not to mention my own," She drew out, still grasping tightly to my ID that gave away I was only seventeen, with a well manicured hand. "to let you in; where will the fairness come from?"

The frustration of not being let in was starting to needle into my conscious state. My brother was probably at the bar laughing and drinking and engaging in questionable activity without any idea that I was out here. At this point, he wouldn't know until the wee hours of the still dark morning when I was still in front of this woman and the people groaning in line behind me were long gone.

But the moment she smiled after she finished talking, and I could see the distinct points of her fangs, everything fell on me like a water balloon.

"My mother is dying," My voice was always hoarse – ever since my mother first started dying, it was hoarse – but now, laced with practically tangible desperation, I was not coherent. "She's doesn't have long and she's waiting to see my brother one last time."

No more tears came down my face but it must have looked like they were about to (when I first stepped in front of her, she sneered at the evidence left behind of my crying) because after a moment or two, she practically colored the back of my hand black with a sharpie and then shoved me through the door.

I never spent my time wondering where it was my brother was hanging out and even on the drive there I didn't really try to expect anything, so the overtly dark and some-what sleazy inside neither met nor failed any previous thoughts. I knew vampires were dangerous but so were most dogs when provoked and my brother and I had more fish to fry than his safety when he first started to come to a vampire bar. He was of age, a male and neither of us told Mom.

I stupidly stood by the door I just came from, trying to crane my neck over the patrons that seemed to not have a problem with the black lacquered table tops to spot the brunette. He wasn't excessively tall, which made the process harder, but the bar looked the most promising. I knew he wasn't much of a dancer and he never really was one for sitting below women on poles (a much more hands-on person).

Along the bar, there were numerous brunettes, but only one near the end opposite of me had the same family-inherited slouch. The smoke and general smell of the whole place irritated my eyes further but I refused to be branded by my hands, my clothing and my face all together. I wasn't exactly in my pajamas; however jeans that fit snuggly years ago and a shirt I used for painting my room was hardly club attire. At least I was wearing black; I wasn't completely a sore thumb.

On my way to the end of the bar, side-stepping the random couple that couldn't quite make it to the dance floor and those carrying drinks, a drunk at a table managed to edge me sideways with his bumbling out of a chair.

"Sorry," I mumbled automatically, averting my eyes quickly even though I really was not in the wrong and he could not possibly understand me. I took one step looking at my feet before directly leveling my eyes to the center of the back-most wall and awkwardly meeting the gaze of another.

He looked bored, almost as bored as the woman who let me in, as he sat deeply in the throne of a chair. Even with our eyes eerily connected, there was not visible spark of interest; even with all the activity geared towards his person, he sat like a child sitting through a church sermon. He must have been Scandinavian with his coloring but as always my eyes trailed over to my brother once more; I was on a mission and nothing else mattered.

I reached for my brother's shoulder the moment I could and felt the visible shock. He turned around with a look of slight annoyance before he recognized that it was me. I was surprised he did at all; I must have come early in his night.

"What are you doing here, Daph?" He asked me, only a slight slur littering his normal accent. "How the hell didya even get in?"

His drinking buddy to his left, once absorbed talking with a woman who removed herself to the bathroom, looked me over before laughing slightly and turning back around. Josh's friends never really liked me; I wasn't particularly tom-boyish nor was I legal to look at and so I served no purpose it seemed.

"Mom's dying," I said, not bothering yelling. I knew the moment he turned around he'd realize why I was there and that the questions were only manifestations of his hopes that it was anything else. I couldn't even put emotion into my words, we both had envisioned this night so many times before. "She wants to see you last."

Josh muttered something to his friend before sliding off the stool. I could tell it was his time to start crying and I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. Both for his sake and for Mom's, it wasn't peaceful waiting for a son while death is all but in your living room. As I turned, I caught the eye of the no-doubt owner who seemed zeroed in on me - this time interested.

I felt my brother at my back and started toward the door.

* * *

><p>Josh was filling out the necessary paper work while I sat in the hospital room that held more emotional attachments than our house ever did. My mother was no longer underneath the white sheet; instead she was underneath my feet in the morgue. It had been about an hour since, maybe two, but I still had no idea what time it was.<p>

I hadn't known ever since I got into my car to get Josh.

There wasn't too much to fill out, the doctor gave us an accurate assessment of how long she had to live and therefore we were very proactive with all of our duties. We couldn't afford a proper burial and accepted the city-paid cremation. Morbidly my mother was aware of all the decisions and the only thing she demanded was that Josh be there before she went. She did not want to enter the After-world without seeing his assumed-patriarchal face, the heavy brow already settling in on his face.

I sat in the chair I always occupied over these past few months, my butt molded to the very worn cushion, hunched over. My forearms were on my thighs and I stared blankly at the bed that once held my mother. My once breathing, alive and suffering mother. If I turned my head I could see my brother pacing with the clipboard outside the room, trying to remember the date so that he, a 23 year old, could take full custody of me (as stated in my mother's will).

I sat and stared and wondered if this was exactly how the owner of the club reacted when his mother died. I was exhausted of mourning my mother but that didn't alter the magnitude of actually losing her; I'm sure I looked quite bored.


	2. Chapter 2: Freeze Normality

I didn't realize how much of a night owl my mother's sickness made me until it was two weeks after her death and every single night I was awake for my brother's homecoming from that bar. Sure, I'd fall asleep sometime around 4 and not wake until 2 PM, but there wasn't a lot going for me during the times I was awake. Seemingly, being awake at night felt much worse.

But my mother had been in the hospital room for 6 months and my pattern was set, I just needed to find a graveyard shift to work and perhaps all the guilt would melt away. I shouldn't really feel guilty in the first place, I brought my brother to her as her last wish and that was it. I never really did anything against Mom's wishes, not that she had any huge ones to turn down in the first place. There was the underlying "bring back your father" desire, but she never openly expressed it (to me at least) and no one in our family, grandparents included, expected my dad to return from that grocery store that he happened to need to go to late at night.

He ran out on us about four months before I was born, three years and some odd months after Josh was. Mom had all kinds of memories of her, "Dad" and Josh; going to see the latest Disney animated feature, family dinners, moving from state to state because no contracting company would keep Dad around for more than a few summer seasons before downsizing, etc. From the scrapbooks she managed to make in her mourning period before I was born, I think those three years and some odd months were the best moments of her life – she had a loving family with a promise of more. It was my dumb luck that dear old Papa couldn't deal with the idea of supporting anymore children and left my mother to always look at me with a little contempt of ending her short lived utopia. She loved me, I'm sure, but the proof our strained relationship was in her last week of living when she didn't utter anything that didn't have "Make sure your brother is here" attached to it.

Because of their extra time to bond, my brother was taking her death much worse than I. Or maybe he was just taking it much more publicly. He hated the smell of hospitals or some excuse like that and didn't get that 2+ months of preparation for not having her around. In those months, much like now, he took to the drink and took to being a drink as a means of escape.

Perhaps he just really liked being light-headed, I'm unsure.

Josh was always the father figure who knew that he had no right being it in the first place. Until last week, he had paid leave from his job as a manager of a supermarket and Monday was his first time dealing with outsiders in the daylight. He didn't cry, he assured me, but when he came home Josh looked absolutely beat. Not enough to prevent him from leaving me alone until 2 AM, though, like normal. They say the best way to deal with tragedy is to form a routine and that's what we did (albeit, the healthiness of ours is questionable).

Mom gave us some inheritance, enough to pay off the apartment for a year, which meant Josh could save for something really important (like food, perhaps, or an unexpected broken leg). I'm sure she wanted one of us to go to college; Josh always said it'd be me since I was graduating as the youngest in my class, but it'd be a waste. There was no pleasure in reading anything anymore or calculating or even getting my life on track towards some goal that'd probably change in a month's time. Death always brings out an air of fatality and futility and I sniffed it hard. I didn't know what I wanted to be and didn't really excel in any class more than the others. I wasn't obsessively passionate about any one thing, which greatly limited my social skills, and with the last year of my high school career being spent near sick people almost all of my senses were dulled to the max. I was a shell of a person, a boring and floating shell, yet I didn't have the heart to tell Josh that I wasn't planning on going to college (the fact that I didn't apply anywhere had to have done the trick).

I do like astronomy, I suppose. The idea that there are more than just us in the universe. That our lives could actually be as insignificant as we feel when looking at the stars and that whatever we do doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. I didn't know my constellations, but I know the difference between a dwarf star and supernova. I know about waxing and waning moons and did a research paper on the first lunar landing, which involved numerous viewings of _Apollo 13_. I enjoy the mystery of science and its proof of other intelligence besides human, but is that a passion?

My fascination with space, though, could tie into the very reason why I wasn't afraid the night I retrieved Josh from the bar. The urgency of my mother's death did have a big part, yes, but I never was afraid of vampires either. When they came out, I breathed a sigh I clichely didn't know I was holding. I never had brushes with the supernatural before then but it was reassuring that all the people who did weren't crazy (which meant about a fourth of the population, if the last census can be trusted) and that we weren't at the top of the food chain. I should feel threatened, I know, but it's huge shoes to fill, being dominant, and I am not ready to be up to the plate. I'd rather sit out a game and let the vampires hit for me.

Although, it took four showers and an infinite amount of hand washings in the sink to get the sharpie off my hand.

* * *

><p>"What did you do?"<p>

My launch from the couch about two inches could've easily been seen from the front door, but my brother's serious face told me he didn't care. The clock had only just struck 12 and I was settling into the fourth chapter of a school book I read sophomore year.

What was he doing home?

"Josh," I started, my book still open on my lap. "I don't… what are you talking about?

I hadn't left the apartment except for a random walk to get fresh air. School ended a day after Mom's death and I wasn't expected to walk for my diploma in my "delicate state".

"Fucking Eric Northman asked about you tonight," Josh had shut the door and walked into the living room, but his blue eyes were widened and his lips plunged downward in visible distress.

"Who's that?" My concern was growing; this someone who's got my brother all riled up was probably not good.

"Hasn't said a single thing to me the entire time I've been there and the first thing he says 'How's your sister?'" Josh didn't hear me and proceeded to pace a little, glaring. "Fucking asshole."

"Josh, Josh just calm down," I stood up and stopped him in his tracks, hands on his biceps. He didn't seem any calmer, but at least he recognized that I had talked. "Now, I didn't do anything and I don't know who you're talking about."

This didn't seem to ease Josh's tension.

"Of course you do," he scoffed, moving out from my hold. "When you came into Fangtasia, _illegally_, you had to have seen him. Tall son-of-a-bitch, blond hair, arrogance shining out of his ass,"

Josh's drunken description continued onward; he always cursed when he was drunk. When he was sober, he'd blush at anyone else's usage, the little hypocrite. I was distracted with the bored man I saw that night – the one on the throne, was that Eric Northman? Josh hasn't let me live that night down; he tried to ground me numerous times from getting in the place ("It's dangerous for an underage girl") but he never had the heart to fulfill his promise.

Josh stopped his little rant and turned toward me, noticing the look on my face that showed I remember a man fitting his colorful attributes.

"He wants to meet you," Josh sounded down right pissed at this admittance. He stared at me as if it was my fault entirely when, like I told him countless times, I only talked to the bouncer and him and the club, no one else. "Tonight."

This time I stood frozen with my eyes wide. It was only slightly creepy that an apparent vampire, whom I've never met, had a discussion with my brother about me but it was a whole other level that I was supposed to meet him.

"And," I wasn't quite sure what to say, but Josh wasn't going to speak until I did. "and what did you say to him?"

"What do you think I said, Daphne? You don't say 'Not tonight, she's sleeping' to a vampire and especially not one who owns the place you frequent most! I have to fucking take my only family to the most dangerous place she could be, God damnit."

I never thought my brother was afraid of them, but his reaction of trepidation made me re-think his status as a blood bag.

"Now?" I asked incredulously, my voice rising an octave. I had never wanted to read _Wuthering Heights_ so much in my life, but if it meant I could avoid going…

"Yes," Josh seethed, not directed at me. "He said not to worry about your attire, either. That he didn't expect a 17 year old to be prepared for the likes of his business."

Then Josh suddenly stopped talking and flexed his fists a bit.

"And that your last outfit was 'endearing'."

My arm was grabbed, and despite the fact that this time I was in cut-offs and one of his shirts, Josh led me to his car.

"We'll talk about the do's and don't's on the way there."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I originally planned this to be longer, but this seemed like a nice ending place. It's a tad boring in the beginning, yeah, but simple characterization that can't be avoided. **

**A huge "Thank you" to all who have alerted/favorited this story already!**

**Sexyknickers & Nelle07: I hope it stays interesting for you. It may be slow, but hopefully interesting.**


	3. Chapter 3: Ziploc Opportunity

"Back so soon?" The woman vampire patronized with a smirk.

"I was told not to waste time, Pam." My brother's slight clench of teeth while speaking was not lost on me, although it wasn't completely directed at Pam. We had spent the first three minutes of our drive in silence because he was stupid enough to drive home intoxicated. He tried to tell me that he was only buzzed, but it was still a stupid decision on his part and forced me to drive without my license even on me.

"Yes, well," She said, clearly bored to see that neither of us were forthcoming with our banter. "Go in, he'll spot you easily."

Pam didn't even mark my hand this time; instead Josh grabbed my wrist and opened the door for us to enter. After his explanation of the "do's and don't's" in the car (once my angry silence was over), I felt the urge to lower my eyes to the ground. Josh made them seem like very territorial lions that no human had any right being around in the natural world. Sure, I've heard stories of the possessiveness of vampires (mainly in the ER waiting room where the only working soda machine was), but Josh _did_ choose to come to this place and put himself in the apparent danger. It stupid to pretend that we had no options when it comes to vampires and so I forced my eyes to look around.

It wasn't any less cheesy or dark than the first time I visited it, but somehow the appeal lowered. Perhaps it's because I actually saw all the actions of the people within, rather than just searching for my brother. It all seemed unhygienic: the amount of alcohol and smoke and touching of bodies. Then again, who am I to judge the actions of legal adults? Who am I to judge Josh (although I'd rather just think that he only drank instead of participating in all the other…activities available here)?

We didn't stay near the door, like I did, when looking for Eric Northman. Josh had his neck elongated like a giraffe as he led me, still by the wrist, through the throngs of people. Somehow it was more crowded than the first time I went there and I felt more sweaty persons than I cared for. At least they didn't smell (although vampires were supposed to have heightened senses, so I suppose they would tolerate it at a lesser degree than me).

Finally we brushed passed the area with a couple of tables, the majority of rowdy-but-too-drunk-to-dance Frat boys, and the end of the bar. I had only seen the dance floor and the throne for a few seconds when looking for my brother, but there was a large pole in the middle that somehow I missed the first time. No one was on there, which was lucky for my eyes. I wasn't a complete goody-goody; before Mom got put in the hospital and I still had an after-school job, I smoked pretty regularly and have watched R-rated movies since I was 14. But seeing something on screen and in front of you are two different things, as was evident by me being in the club.

I felt virginal and naïve as I realized there probably was a good reason why there are age limits.

By the time Josh and I got to the dance floor, though, the bored man stood in front of us. He was, in Josh's words, a tall son of a bitch and blond, but he didn't prove his arrogance until he spoke.

"If you had waited until I got to the crowd," Eric was clearly bemused. "Then it would've been much easier to pass through."

I knew if it had been anyone else, in Josh's state he'd crack a not-so-nice joke about them being Moses – but surprisingly Josh was silent. I stole my eyes away from the vampire in front of me to look at Josh, who looked like he was in the middle of a class lecture.

"Figured it'd be less of a hassle this way," Josh sort of coughed out, losing all of the ire he held back at the apartment and even in the front of the line. I wasn't sure if he was afraid or just reverent, but either way that made Eric Northman more intimidating. I turned back to looking at him as he did me for the first time that night.

"And I'm thrilled that bringing your sister on such a short notice wasn't a hassle, either" His monotonous tone reminded me of a kid sassing his teacher, and yet Josh only muttered "yeah, you're welcome" and shifted on his feet. My eyebrow twitched in confusion.

Eric stooped over us in what could only be taken as a passive-threatening way; we weren't a particularly tall family, though. As I wondered what he'd look like straight up, he leaned even farther in to whisper "You look lovely tonight" with the same smirk that Pam had outside.

I looked plain and the lack of looks from everyone when I first arrived confirmed that – I only had time to slip on black flip-flops before Josh dragged me out of the apartment. I didn't understand why I was there, what he wanted to do with me and how false compliments aided his goal.

"Did you have a specific topic to talk about with my sister?" The unnaturally friendly tone of Josh was as sudden as his snap out of whatever day-dream he started once Eric started talking to us. It was like he realized what (or who) was exactly in front of us and how angry he was when he first had to get me.

"A simple proposition," Eric waved his hand after leaning backwards once again. He was so much more _lively_ than when I saw him those weeks ago, but in the moment of standing up fully and sweeping his eyes across the room (that no doubt was staring back; after all, I gathered he wasn't a meet-and-mingle kind of owner) that inherent boredom returned. "Follow me."

He turned and we immediately fell in step with him, only about two seconds late. True to his word, most of the dancers parted like the Red Sea for him – save for the two or three daring ones who attempted to seduce him by rubbing up and down on his arms. Eric simply rung them off like he had just washed his hands with no towel in sight (leaving one girl sure to bruise on the floor). We reached a hallway off to the right of his throne that was only slightly better lit with a few giggling girls waiting outside of the bathroom. Before entering the alcove, Eric turned back around to face us as if he didn't know we were following that closely that I would have run straight into his stomach if Josh hadn't had better control and stopped me. Shouldn't his senses have been dulled?

"Only your sister is needed as of now," Eric simply stated as he stared down Josh. There was no emotion this time while Josh's face paled a little.

"I'm sorry," Josh started off after a second or two. "But she's my only sister, can't I just…I don't know, sit in the back or something?"

Eric raised an eyebrow then shook his head.

"I won't make a sound or even object; she's all I have left," Josh pleaded once more. He had let go of my wrist the moment we started talking to Eric, but my hand reached down and squeezed his after seeing Eric move to shake his head again.

"It's okay, I'll be okay" I breathed, looking Josh straight in the eye. He didn't believe me, I could tell. "With him." If I looked out of the corner of my eye, I'd see Eric smirk once again.

"You may wait outside of my office, if you wish," Eric conceded, waving his arm toward the door that led to his office. Josh pursed his lips downward and nodded his head.

* * *

><p>I sat in front of his desk in a leather chair with my hands folded in my lap, wishing I had brought a jacket. He sat behind it in a similar throne to the one outside with his hands underneath his chin, probably comfortable with the room temperature. We had been keeping eye contact for the past five minutes and I felt bad for wasting my brother's time like this; however, the staring contest wasn't bothering me and I wasn't the one to call this meeting in the first place.<p>

"You aren't afraid of me," He finally said as if it was pissing contest to see who could speak first, instead of the popular "who could be less unnerved by the silence".

"I should be," I admitted, still looking at him. Ever since Mom died I wondered if I looked as emotionless as I felt.

"If don't mind me asking, why aren't you?" Eric said with false politeness.

I thought for a moment. I couldn't quite explain that I was glad that vampires existed because I was tired of being human because that wasn't exactly why I wasn't afraid. I saw how the rest of the club reacted to him, how my brother did (through out all the stages of the night) and I knew that I should be just like them.

But I wasn't.

"Anything you could ever do to me would eventually end in my death," I said finally. Neither of us bothered to point out that practically everything I did would lead to my death.

We also ignored the amount of pain that I would most likely go through before death would befall upon me.

"I have nothing of the sort in mind," Eric leaned further back into his chair, as if I had passed some test. "Yet."

Typical.

We finally broke eye contact as he looked down at his desk for some paper in the pile at the topmost left corner; I looked at the random poster on the left side of the wall for some big label alcohol with the least creepy advertising. This one, however, was in the style of old Hollywood glamour fright movies with the gleaming pointed teeth of a vampire being the main focal point.

"I want you to work for me."

It seemed strange that after our meeting with Josh and our first private conversation, he'd be so poignant with his want from me. I couldn't contain the "What?" that slipped out of my mouth only a moment after him.

"Your brother is quite the talker while intoxicated," Eric said diplomatically; yet again, I doubted that he really was that polite. "He has mentioned his dissatisfaction with work and their equal sentiments toward him to many patrons."

This was news to me and the solemn look on Eric's face made him seem like he hated to be the messenger. My shock must have been encouragement for him to continue.

"If you work for me, there will be no need for your brother to have to endure such unhappiness any longer," He paused for effect. "And you'll be able to spend more time together; bonding like most siblings do, I hear."

"I can't," I was still in slight astonishment of the conversation. "I can't legally serve alcohol."

He laughed a little, his hands still resting on the piece of paper he had found before offering me a position.

"You won't be serving alcohol."

My thoughts traveled back to that pole in the middle of the dance floor and my concern rose. He laughed again, as if he could read my thoughts.

"You'll be a busboy –girl (he corrected) -, mainly cleaning up the tables near the back. My customers, while generous, are not the most considerate."

I thought back to all the reactions that Eric Northman gathered from the people around him.

"You aren't expecting me to say no," I started "Are you?"

His face upturned to a small smile while shaking his head. He turned the paper around and slid it toward me, grabbing a pen out of his desk with his other hand.

"Just sign there and initial there," Eric handed me the pen while he explained, "Insurance and tax purposes."

Pen in hand, I dazedly murmured "I never properly met you."

Eric, smile/smirk still on his face, stood up and before I could blink, zoomed around his desk. He grasped my wrist, no longer holding the pen and uncharacteristically but daintily pulled me upwards so I was standing, too. He let go of my wrist and instead gripped my hand in a hand shake.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Daphne Leary" He purred. "I'm Eric Northman."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Obviously Eric makes his first speaking scene in this chapter, but I'm a little weary of his character. If you have any advice or complaints against what I have written (as in he's too stuffy or whatever), please feel free to share. **

**Thank you for all that have favorited and alerted this story!**

**Sexyknickers, cdsnow, owlish quagmire and nelle07: Here is more! I hope the emergence of Eric doesn't diminish the intrigue and I really do appreciate you guys reviewing. **


	4. Chapter 4: Thaw the Night Shift

"And, that's basically it!" Ginger said perkily aw we stood in an empty Fangtasia.

I had been given my work schedule, which was practically every night except for Sundays and Mondays (as they were the least popular nights for the club), and it was a part of my training to show up an hour earlier on my first day to get the "hang" of things. The hang of things on my end, since I was underage and banned from ever seeing the other side of the bar, only really included a dish rag and one of those black plastic boxes used for carting dirty dishes to the kitchen in restaurants. We hadn't taken a tour of the actual club, but Ginger did take me back behind the door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY and pointed at all the doors, telling me what they were. Various closets, a basement that I would be in bigger trouble for going into than going behind the bar, and the kitchen door at the end of the hall were the highlights.

I didn't even have to clean the beer soaked glasses; I just had to put everything found on the table into the box, wipe the table and take it to the kitchen. Did you know vampires were as concerned with recycling as a suburban family - there was a familiar green bin in the kitchen? I was warned that there were occasions in which the patrons drew blood and other bodily fluids, in which I'd have to ask for the disinfectant at the bar and clean the table thoroughly, but other than that Ginger saw no other need to instruct me.

We both looked at the clock that showed only half an hour passed, but her confusion was more audible.

"Now why did he have you come in a whole hour early?" Almost everything she said had a laugh ready to bubble out of her, but she meant well. Scarily tiny with well groomed hair, yes, and she seemed like the real world would be too much for her to handle, but Ginger never showed any negative emotion since I knocked on the door. "Course I wouldn't know, s'not my job and s'not yours either to figure out anything that goes on in this place – we're just hired to look pretty."

At that, she stopped polishing the clear cups behind the bar, put a hand on her bare hip and smiled widely. If I hadn't heard the accent in the voice the entire time she spoke, I would've known right then that she was Southern from her Belle like stance. I gave a small twitch of the lips back before returning my gaze to the now-well lit Fangtasia. I wasn't hired to look pretty and if Eric or Pam cared about her looks, they probably would've feed her more or made her quit smoking a lot earlier ("6 months strong, now!"), but we were in a vampire bar and she was entitled to her fantasies.

Josh had freaked out when he first heard about my new employment. He didn't care how much he hated his own job and he didn't care that he knowingly complained about it while he was drunk, those were his problems he said. But to bring his little sister, one grieving her only parent with no concrete future anymore since the "untimely" death? Josh was almost too disgusted to ever step foot back into Fangtasia, but after he realized that there was no way I could back out of the job (without some vulgar form of compensation) and if he left, no one would look after me, he grudgingly decided to keep drinking there.

Although he insisted on driving me to and me driving him from to stay safe and save on taxi money.

"Good evening Ginger," Eric said walking out from the Employees Only door as if he had been there the entire time. He might have been; Ginger never actually opened any of the doors save the kitchen when we took the tour, but it seemed strange that he was hiding in there. I hadn't seen either vampiric owners since I arrived; Ginger explained they often took care of personal business before the club opened and I assumed that the business took place in the outside world.

Apparently my face had shifted slightly to show how unexpected his arrival was because when he glanced at me, he smirked (and it was then I became the promised ass) and nodded his head. "Daphne."

Ginger giggled out a greeting while I still clutched to backed leather stool in front of me, turning it a little, and diverting my eyes elsewhere.

"Oh, Daphne," I heard before I felt the swoosh of air and felt Eric's breath rearranging a few strands on my head. If his appearance was unexpected, his sudden movement was down right improbable and the resultant jerk, fingers clutched onto the stool, caused the breath to change as he smiled.

"Don't worry, Honey" Ginger said, reaching a hand across the bar as if to comfort me – her fingers didn't stretch that far, though, and she wiggled them in the air in the middle of the counter to compensate the lack of touching between us. "In time you'll get used to it - it's a bitch until then though."

The baited laughter behind her sentences finally spewed out with her last one, while I was hyper-aware of Eric taking a step away from me. I had turned my head when he scared me, but turned it back to Ginger almost immediately. But I could still see him moving his hands to where his body was only just a few milliseconds ago, holding something that matched the color scheme of the rest of the club.

"Your uniform," He prompted as I pivoted to face him fully, my hands off the stool finally. Two folded fabrics were in his hands, the top red and the bottom black, and I quirked my eyebrow.

"I have a uniform?" It was a dumb question, I realized the moment I spoke it, but I never once saw a uniform in this place. Not on Ginger or Pam or Eric, at least. I was unsure of all the other employees in the place and I could only guess that the one whose station was the pole on the dance floor had even less of an opportunity to be provided clothing by her employer.

"Evidently," He said, all prior amusement erased from his demeanor. He extended his arms a little more until I placed my own underneath his and he released the clothing. "I am providing you one set, cleaning it is your concern and ruining it will only mean I deduct from your pay check to get you another."

I set the black shorts on the bar, not concerned with their shortness in that moment, before unfolding the red t-shirt; it only had the club's insignia on it. I looked back up at Eric, who surprisingly wasn't slouching over me. Just how much was he expecting to take out of my pay-check if I ruined one of his own souvenirs?

"You should change now before we become open," Eric advised, leaving off his sentence with clear intention to continue before I interrupted in the pause of his speech.

"How did you know my size?" My brows were furrowed and Ginger had taken it upon herself to move further along the bar – still eavesdropping but not in the line of fire.

"And you should learn to not interrupt your boss," He said drolly as if that was what he meant to say all along, with or without my question. He some how maneuvered himself behind me, causing me to my back to face the bar in order to keep eye-contact and once satisfied he began to back me up against the bar. This is when the hovering over me began. "I am your employer, your boss, and a vampire at that. Not a push-over human who does not have the smarts to figure out a teenage girl's size, even if she is too small to properly fit in regular size clothing yet."

My neck ached at the angle I had bend to look up at him, I was only 5'4" and he was pushing too tall to play basketball properly. I understood his need to assert dominance – after-all Ginger was pretty obedient and he was probably used to her devotion. I wasn't Ginger, though, and I doubted he expected me to be, especially since I was the only one who had a uniform, but he needed a method to ensure that my loyalty to his business was as strong as hers.

I blinked before saying "okay" and he stared at me until he stepped away from me, allowing me to move between the stools and towards the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"How was work?" Josh asked me, as if we were a normal family taking a drive to a picnic.<p>

However, we were driving home at dawn with the distinct smell of alcohol in the air (both from him and me, a drunk spilled his bottle half on me while trying to get to the men's room) and he had a little blood stained on the side of his neck. I saw no holes; Josh was very good at keeping his extra curricular activities in the alley-way a secret, but waiting for me until my shift was over apparently made him sloppy.

Since I was underage, I couldn't work more than 6 hours a night, but Eric side-stepped the child labor laws by keeping Fangtasia open for barely a minute less than 6 – including the after-hours clean up.

I was driving while Josh sat in the passenger seat, hands all over his face in obvious sleepiness. I was tired, sure, but we lived only ten minutes away from the club and then I had every intention of not waking up until the sun went down – a vampire in human skin, what a lark. The clothes I came in to the club in were in the backseat of the old Toyota: a pair of light-washed jeans and a tank-top. Didn't Eric mention he liked my "endearing" fashion sense?

When Josh first saw me in the shorts that were only an inch past my butt, he didn't say anything. He had come in after about two hours after the opening, sat down at the bar and didn't notice me until I was my second trip back from the kitchen since he walked in. Instead, he slammed back whatever he had to drink and then turned to whoever he was talking to, to his right.

It wasn't until 2 AM that the guys in the sitting area began to notice that I was, in fact, a staple in their area and tried to talk to me or impress me or annoy me – I couldn't tell the purpose of the rather loud and indiscernible bragging. I was ignoring them ntil a table cleared by the Employees Only door, staring out at the club, Ginger's bobbing blond hair walking back and forth from the bar, and at all costs circumnavigating the dance floor, save for the pole that this time had a dancer on it.

I had called it earlier when I thought that the amount of clothing I had was a luxury.

Eric, though, managed to walk by me at the same time and I moved closer to the bar to give him access to the door behind me. Surprisingly he just stood beside me, arms crossed against his chest - I wasn't sure of how he could make an entire club either notice or ignore his existence without saying a word.

"Like it?" He asked, not expecting me to answer my true opinion much like a person who fixed up a car wouldn't expect the honest truth from a non-car lover.

"It is something," I answered diplomatically, holding back a yawn. I was used to staying up but never doing anything quite as strenuous as a job. He just chuckled at me, before leaning back onto the door and rolling onto his shoulder towards me – arms still crossed. How could one man, vampire, person, being be that addicted to moving with agility. His eyes were on me, but he didn't speak until I looked up at him.

"In your mother's hospital room, as she lay barely breathing, did you imagine you'd work with Death so close after her death?"

I could feel my eyes bulge slightly as I comprehended his odd question fully. There was an intensity in his own that I hadn't seen before, although the façade of a smirk was edging onto his face and once again I wanted so desperately to return to _Wuthering Heights_.

Luckily, I saw the scooting of chairs in my peripheral vision and had an excuse to leave him quickly without answering. I didn't see him move from the door, but somehow he transferred himself all the way to his throne for about 10 minutes before moving to his office.

I didn't cross his path again until after closing, when he was set to return to wherever he sleeps and wanted to make sure that Ginger and I were doing our cleaning duties. Josh sat, face down on the bar, only moving when we had to wipe his area. The only words he spoke especially for me was to remind me that I had to get to work ten minutes before the next day's shift – or rather today's.

"Normal," I shrugged and neither of us mentioned the fact that my past job had nothing on this one.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the wait! I know where I want this story to go, so it wasn't writer's block per se - most likely just laziness. **

**For the sack of this story and because I have poetic license, I am stretching the timeline between the second and third season - a huge pause before Bill was kidnapped so that these events can occur. **

**A huge, elephantine thank you to everyone who has favorited and alerted this story!**

**Thank you to cdsnow, treewitch703, Janaina, SexyKnickers, Nelle07, stargurl113, The Red Canyon, Helen, Tooley, and Cassie for reviewing, I'm really glad you think this is interesting enough to read and I promise there will be more plot-based, "actiony" happenings in the next chapter. **

**Treewitch703: I am weary of his character because it is very hard to pin down - I can do flat characters that are arrogant or ruthless, but there were too many times while watching the series that Eric's actions were surprising to me for me to feel that confident while writing him. **


	5. Chapter 5: Rotting Josh

It's been six months since my mother died.  
>Five months and two weeks since I've been gainfully employed at Fangtasia.<br>Four months and three weeks since my brother introduced me to his vampire lady friend, the one who he always disappeared with out into the alley.  
>Three months and two weeks since I turned 18.<br>Two months and five days since I finally got sexually harassed by one of the drunkards dumb enough to "flirt" hard with an employee at a club.  
>One month since Eric let me behind the bar for the first time to get the disinfectant myself.<br>Two days since I actually slept past sundown.

That day was a relief, honestly. Not because my work schedule was grueling or embarking on the necessary and natural REM cycle, but because the hours I spent awake during the day always crawled in their passing. I had no friends to catch up with and Josh, ever since he quit his job, spent most of the hours in his room either sleeping or crying (discreetly, he vainly hoped). It seemed like such a burden to be alone in my living room and I had no real need to go out to spend the money that was accumulating in our bank account.

Josh had quit his job because of the money, actually. I was earning about 5 more dollars than he did and Eric always mentioned he had the health insurance _covered_. How, I didn't need to know – the last time any of us had been sick was when I had the flu ten years ago, other than that we were fit as a pair of fiddles (granted, only if the cancer wasn't genetic).

When I got my first pay check, it was tense between us; I was supposed to be the younger sister, the vulnerable one with little experience and a relatively low amount of hours and yet I earned more than him. I knew ever since I first heard his moans from his bedroom that things wouldn't be the same between us – he was the one still mourning while I had barely acted outwardly affected. A small amount of resentment was tacked onto our home bill with each tear shed and when he first introduced me to Claudette, his girlfriend (or whatever the proper terminology was) I thought we'd paid off some of the debt.

But truthfully, I didn't know how I felt about our mother's death and my acting indifferent wasn't exactly a survival tactic to deal with remorse. A part of me was angry that she didn't have one of those heartfelt stories about beating cancer, that after 6 months of pure torture on everyone's end she eventually died. A part of me was glad that at least she escaped the emotional drain of our situation and that I no longer had to be silently reminded of a dad long gone. A part of me never wanted to think about her again. The part that sympathized with my brother, though, made want to never _not_ think about her.

Eric didn't ease the tensions in that respect, either. Almost every night I'd receive a question or a comment about my mother and her death similar to the one I got the first night; odd, morbid and off guard, although now I was used to it. He'd ask me if I knew how long a body took to decompose or if I ever watched her receive chemotherapy, he'd tell me he naturally ran at a temperature close to the one she had when we returned to her hospital bed all those months ago and she finally let go. He never expected a response, so I didn't pretend to rush to clean up a table anymore – I just stared blankly in front of me. Eye contact was no longer needed between us.

Other than those comments, though, we had a strangely normal report. I did with all the workers; usually on Saturday nights when the flow of people was so heavy I actually felt too light-headed to drive home, I also deluded myself into believing that we were the type of work family you'd see in movies. Like Ginger, I didn't know what vampire business either Pam or Eric had before the club opened, but they also didn't know what I did in the day time or on my days off, so it didn't matter too much. Not like I did something insanely exciting on my days off, mainly grocery shopping and a trip to the library to further shut myself off in an unusual hermit manor.

But they were still relatively nice to me; on my birthday, Eric allowed me the night off to sit by his side in the lesser throne on stage. I could only really stand the stares for an hour and half before I slipped off to sit by my brother, sipping on a Shirley Temple, Eric still laughing at my graceful get away. In the winter time, I was allotted to wear tight black jeans, although the heat of the club meant I would only change into the pants when I had to walk outside in the morning. Pam would often say something entertainingly offensive to me and not at all be put-off by my laughter instead of a negative response; Ginger would still treat me as the human newbie she had to take under her wing even though I eventually stopped jumping because of the speed of the vampires.

My first week, I got numerous requests to drink Eric's blood – a further show of dominance and way to guarantee loyalty, I was sure. Through the hospital doors, though, I not only overhead the random police officers complain about the drug trade of vampire blood but also the bruised nurses cooing over the latest injury due to an unstable patient high off the stuff with superhuman strength and out of their mind toward anyone trying to help them. Even though I wasn't sure what all the blood could do and Ginger gave a testimonial about how his offer really was just another work obligation, I still couldn't say yes. After the lack of punishment my refusals garnered, I realized that it couldn't truly be _only_ a work obligation, but there was no other satiable explanation for them.

Still, without his blood or his claim (working for almost 6 months at Fangtasia meant I learned more about vampires than I ever wanted to), I was open bait to the nocturnal club-goers and I was cleanly surprised that the only sexual advances I ever got came from the human males. Pam did make backhanded compliments about how if I ate a little more, my "pretty little eyes wouldn't seem as huge" and Josh never let me live down the night that he caught Eric staring at my butt as I walked, and yet I was never talked to by any of the other vampire. Even Ginger got some fang action – not that I'm jealous, I had only just become immune to the blatant display of sexuality on the dance floor thanks to the newest dancer, but it didn't feel _right_ that I was still a virgin when it came to dealing with vampire, when I saw more than two dozen a night.

My nights off, though, I only saw Claudette. Sometimes she'd come around to Josh's and my apartment and try to start a board game with us. Apparently she was turned when she was 20 in the 1920s and Monopoly reminded her so greatly of the Atlantic City she once knew. Josh would giggle and tease her about being an old maid, and her still favoring the flapper style of clothing would only grant him more harmless ammo against her.

Claudette would playfully push him without any of her true strength and somehow the flirting would turn into full on make out sessions on our couch, which most of the time prompted me to never play a game with them again. I would sit on the Boardwalk with more hotels on my properties than theirs combined for half an hour before Josh would dazedly, and more happily than I'd ever seen him during the week, ask me if I needed to run to the store to get anything.

I don't ever remember agreeing to that being to code word for "Get out you runt, I'm going to have hot, bloody sex with a woman who could've been my grandmother" but I would always leave regardless. If she helped him stop crying in the day time, I would've been okay with him actually saying those words to me instead of the euphemism – although it was beginning to look suspicious with all my nighttime time being spent wandering around the Wal-Mart, buying nothing.

She became a regular for waiting for me with Josh after the club closed until the last possible minute before the sun came up. Eric wasn't very happy that after hours became bizarre family reunion time; a baby vamp and my brother making out in one of the lounges off to the side, Ginger wiping off the tables and me sweeping the floor as Pam complained about the gag-worthy displays of affection. But I was my brother's ride home and Claudette never caused trouble in his club. She took to his rules by feeding off/feeding my brother outside of it and barely made conversation after closing time– even if the silence was more awkward than hearing them swap spit. It was hard to deny him or her access, although he left to wherever he slept earlier and earlier as their relationship went on.

* * *

><p>It's been eight months since my mother died.<br>It's been a week since my brother committed suicide.

In our apartment, he grasped the tiny silver car he normally used as a token when we played Monopoly as he lowered himself into the tub before dunking the plugged-in hair dryer neither of us used downwards. I wasn't there at the time, but the police report made it obvious what he had done. The bolded words of **self-inflicted** and **We're sorry** on the insurance letter I got two days after the empty-handed EMTs left seemed an unnecessary reminder of how he went, too.

At approximately 11:28 PM on a Wednesday night, my brother decided to end it all without any interference from me or Claudette. I thought it was strange that he hadn't come into the club the past two nights like normal, but I didn't see Claudette either so I assumed they had decided to rejoice in the confines of our empty apartment like they sometimes did. She didn't show her face, and still hasn't, since that night.

I came home and went to brush my teeth before crashing onto my bed; the locked door was the first sign and the lack of protest from inside as I jimmied it open was the second. His fist lying outside of the tub, slumped over like the rest of him, was the third and the apology from the emergency operator after I explained the state of my brother was the fourth. The lack of trying to resuscitate him by the EMTs was the fifth and the note handed to me by the accompanying police officers was the sixth and final sign.

Josh wrote that he had cheated on Claudette the night before in a hazy frenzy. That he had been crazy for her blood for the past three months of their relationship, but that she wasn't as willing as he was to be a source and he had found someone in his needy and thoughtless state who was. The countless, almost illegible apologies throughout the letter expressed how almost immediately after he had finished the act, he felt terrible. Worse than when our mother died, which only tacked on the guilt. He expressed he couldn't deal with life – that he was nocturnal as well without a real reason for life, his sister had her own means of living without him and his girlfriend was dating a cheating bastard.

He apologized a few more times before he signed his name, saying that he still loved us, without defining who "us" was.

No one at work said anything as I returned the next day.

* * *

><p>"It's a pity," Eric said lowly as we stood by the bar in a space closest to his office, me waiting for a table to clear and him for a reason unknown. "Claudette and your brother were good customers."<p>

He had given his condolences two nights after I returned but this was the first time he spoke about either of them in front of me. He had even stopped saying the inane things about my mother, too.

"Can this wait," I spoke, my voice was still hoarse from my mother's death all those months ago. My fingers gripped the black box and I had stilled considerably; Eric was behind me in a position of power, like always.

"She has moved out of my area," He stated matter-of-factly. "The same night he killed himself, apparently she felt his betrayal. I could only imagine what it would feel like to feel a bonded human's own death, especially with the torture he put himself through before-hand."

He had tapered off as if it was a normal thing to say to a person who was now expected to respond. My eyes teared up and I almost wished for a comment about my mother rather than this, but I didn't cry. I hadn't cried at all since he died and although my eyes felt uncomfortably dry, it didn't matter.

I felt Eric lower himself toward me so that he spoke directly into my ear as no one else watched us. Why weren't they missing his presence in the ostentatious throne?

"I've heard that electrocution is one of the most painful ways to die."

I turned around so fast he didn't have time to move away from me, which made it easier to glare up at him from my height. The blurring of my eyes made it almost impossible to find his but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

"You are a bastard." I said, the loudness hurting my throat. Then I kept repeating it, like a parrot or a scratched CD, I kept repeating the sentence. I wasn't sure if my voice raised or if the clamor of guests behind me got quieter, I wasn't really sure if he was the one dragging me back to his office or if I stormed there myself.

He slapped me, though, once the door closed and that shut me up. It wasn't hard and could hardly be considered abuse in any way, but I was still mad. I punched him as high as I could reach, although that affected me more than him and he seemed nonplussed all the same. He crossed his arms and watched me like I was a kitten who only just discovered she had claws.

"You are a God damn bastard, insensitive and controlling and a tall son of a bitch," I growled, squinting my eyes to force the built up tears to stream along my face and make my eye sight less annoyingly inaccurate. I didn't feel better repeating Josh's words but it was the first that came to mind.

"How am I a bastard?" Eric asked with too much of child-like curiosity in a louder tone than my own. He held no emotion on his face as he peered down at me, which was normal, but that only frustrated me more. "I'm not your only family member who decided to leave you all alone."

"Of course you're not Josh," I spat out, not faltering on his name out loud for the first time. "And you never will be!"

He cruelly laughed at this.

"You're defending him? You're defending that poor fuck who left you in your mother's hospital room to watch her die while he got piss-drunk right here in my club? Who killed himself because he was a little unfaithful? Pathetic"

"Oh yes," I groaned, pacing a little with pent up energy from my rage. "Yes, let's blame my brother for his way of dealing with grief. Let's blame my brother for being so attached to my mother that he couldn't deal with her mortality until it was time and for being so much like a fucking gentleman that he couldn't bear the thought of cheating, no matter how insignificant the act."

It seemed no matter how much I widened my eyes, this time they kept spilling out tears and it felt like my own throat would tear itself from the inside out, but I didn't stop – I only got louder.

"Let's blame my brother for thinking that because I had a damn job it meant I was completely stable and independent and for the fact that ironically, if I didn't have this job he wouldn't be where he was. He wouldn't have been jealous of me or hated me because I never cried. He wouldn't have felt inferior for not being the bread winner and he wouldn't have ever brought Claudette home as often as he did. He wouldn't have seen me as strong as he thought I was and wouldn't have been the pussy to run away from us all."

I was panting a little, but I didn't stop pacing and my fists clenched painfully to bring the attention away from my voice box. I wasn't even sure if Eric was still in the room.

"But no matter how much bull-shit blame you put on him, it won't change the fact that my damn mother died and that I still would've preferred to work because I have nothing in the waking world. It won't change the fact that Josh wished that I hadn't been born because it might've meant everyone would still be a family and that he told me neither of our parents cared about me like he did because they couldn't deal with the burden of another child. It won't fucking change the fact I hate myself because I am so angry at the deaths of people who would never return the amount of feelings I had for them. That I am so glad they're dead because if they're stupid enough to die on me at this point, I don't need them in my life."

At this I finally found a wall to slide against and cry into my knees. I was sobbing messily and the skin on skin contact wasn't comfortable. I had initially slid against the poster I admired all those months ago and my back ached a little, but nothing mattered anymore. Not even the hand that found its way onto my shoulder.

Another hand was on the back of my head and through the curtains of blond hair, he managed to ease it upward. Somehow my gaze wasn't as unclear as before, although I could feel the tears and probably snot make its way down my face. He had red rimming his own eyes but I didn't have a clue why. The fog that normally encroached my brain after a good cry was acting fast and I didn't care.

"Okay," He whispered as if he wasn't leaking blood from his eyeballs, but I wasn't sure what he was "okay"ing. It was soothing, none-the-less.

Eric then bit into his own wrist that was only just on my head as he crouched before me.

"Will you now drink?" He asked, holding it nauseatingly below my nose.

In my final act of defeat, I nodded and didn't count the seconds as I sucked the oddly succulent liquid before me. Even as I felt the buzz of new-found energy, less bad feeling than before, I still titled my head to the side, resting it against his arm and fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:...not much to say about this chapter...**

**Thank you to all who have favored and alerted this story! It's major motivation.**

**Thank you Lulu1996, TheInvincibleKay, Crystal Moon Magic, SexyKnickers, and Chia247 for reviewing!**


	6. Chapter 6: Heating Me

"Daph," My eyes were shut tightly, but I felt relaxed as another person's breath wafted against my face. "Daph."

I was slowly waking up, but I didn't want to see the fluorescent lights of Eric's office. I remember falling asleep after our fight or my breakdown or whatever just happened was considered. I don't remember falling asleep on the couch I was now on, the squishy but firm leather beneath me a give-away hint of where I was, but he probably had to move me to get back the use of the arm I slept against.

"Daphne, wake up" Eric said firmly, to which my eyes fluttered open of their own accord. When they were fully open, the lights surprisingly did not affect my vision as horribly as I thought, then again Eric took up more than half of my field of vision by being barely four centimeters away from my own face. His hand was on my shoulder and the gentle caress was so welcome by my body in that moment that I dreamily wished it'd be on my shoulder with each waking.

"What time is it?" I asked, slowly getting up as to avoid banging my head against his. I blinked to get used to lights that were on as we stared at each other. I didn't know if it was his blood or just the after-sleep instant confusion that made the air around us buzz, but it was getting a little annoying. There was a need to stretch out my shoulders bubbling forth and the only way I could quench it was by placing my hands behind me a little on the couch and subduing the movement of drawing my shoulders back to almost press the blades together. Eric responded by moving his own torso back a little as his eyes strained to keep on my own rather than drawing downwards – he had incredible self-control.

"Almost four," He said, not any louder than necessary for me to hear. Our whole conversation had been on the quiet side. "The sun won't rise for another two hours"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I stumbled as I quickly rose from the couch, barely giving him time to move. I looked around the room just as fast to see if I had any of my things in here – I didn't see my pants or my jacket; they must be behind the Employees Only door. I turned back to Eric who was standing near where he was crouching, eyes just watching me. I placed a hand on his bare forearm; I suppose vampires wouldn't really care if they were wearing wife beaters in the middle of winter. "You probably want to go to bed and instead you have to wake me up, and I didn't even help with the clean-up, you can dock it from my pay, I'll just be going, I need my keys though-"

I've never been one for rambling, but I was always disoriented after sleeping, especially when directly afterwards I had to move rapidly.

"That's not necessary," He said in a final tone that quickly shut me up as his maneuvered out of my grip so he was the one to hold my wrists. We looked at each other for a few more seconds and not once was his gaze unnerving.

"I wanted to apologize," Eric said quietly leaning further into me. "What I said earlier, it was inappropriate. I understand if you want to quit."

It had been months ago when I realized his static tone wasn't because he was apathetic to the world around him, it was simply how he talked but in this moment it was eerie. I never expected an apology from Eric Northman and I think I'd be better off without it.

"I don't want to quit." I'm sure I mumbled that part, but he still heard me. I didn't understand how he could lean over so far and not topple on top of me.

"What do you want?" His hands had moved from my wrists to my forearms and were tantalizingly moving upwards.

I wasn't sure where I got my courage from and I could only wish that I had been drinking the night before and still was slightly inebriated. I was suddenly very aware of my surroundings, no longer with a toe in the Dreamland, and yet that didn't stop me from raising my feet a little to force our lips to meet.

From start to finish our kiss was passionate and it wasn't really shocking when it escalated to open mouth almost immediately. It was odd how he had all the time in the world and yet was quickly speeding up our intimate embrace. His arms reached behind to grasp the back of my head and neck, while I could only limply hang my arms over his shoulders because of his height and my lack there of. That didn't stop our progression, though, and our movement away from the middle of the room toward the wall I had only just slid against with tears streaming down my face hours before. I arched against it so really only my head and butt hit the wall, but there were no complaints.

He detached himself from my lips only to start moving down my jaw line toward my neck. I was panting and could clearly feel the points of his teeth, which only increased my heart rate (in the best way possible).

"Eric," I said breathlessly like a helpless heroine, which was only a little bit demoralizing in hindsight. "I'm- I'm a virgin."

He pulled back a little, hands moving from behind me to beside each shoulder to keep me trapped on the wall. His grin looked a little ruthless, his glistening fangs as distracting as wind chimes a porch, but my heart only lurched forward in what I guessed was a lustful way. I truly had not felt this way before in my life, but my body's reactions were more than encouraging me in this endeavor.

"I know," Eric said loudly and more confidently than he had sounded all night. Then, he moved forward once more to sniff and then kiss my neck. I was bracing myself for a bite that never came, though, as his hands teasingly moved to the front my chest to un-button the shirt I was wearing. His nose and lips followed in their wake; smelling, kissing and memorizing each piece of skin his hands freed until he was kneeling in front of me, face right in front of the most electrified part of my body. Eric's hands were now resting beneath the fabric of the once buttoned blue plaid shirt I wore on my hips, and he looked up at me with another enticing grin.

"Believe me, I know."

It was the most bizarre but erotic thing I had ever experienced and there was no going back the moment his hands started to undo the shorts I was wearing. Eric left one hand on a belt loop while his other hand moved to my right leg, lifting it so that it was over his shoulder. I wasn't sure how I was still standing because the entire time I felt as if I would fall if he hadn't been there and the tug on my shorts so they slid downwards to my thighs only added to the wobbliness of my stance. He had kept eye contact throughout his movements until he started to move forward, face in the perfect position to –

I shot up, my heart pounding so hard I was surely going into cardiac arrest. I looked around Eric's empty office – of course I had that detail of the dream right, I _did_ fall asleep immediately after my rant and he _did_ place me on the couch, but so far nothing else was like my dream. My eyes kept roaming the room, as if Eric was really hiding in the shadows to finish what my subconscious started and for the moment, I wasn't sure whether that was something I wanted to avoid or not.

Finally accepting I was alone, I looked downwards at myself as my hands gripped the sides of my t-shirt; but the red uniform shirt. I didn't even own a blue plaid button-up! My eyes flicked to the door before my hands went to my belt loops and the skin around my hip-bones tingled as they rose in goose-bumps (damn hypersensitivity). I lifted the waistband of my shorts; yup, still wearing underwear.

I was two for four in comparisons of my real situation to the dream.

However, whatever higher deity there was was not on my side that night because as I was checking my undergarment status, the door opened. It could've been worse, I know – it could've been Eric standing in the door instead of Pam, but that was not a position I'd like to be caught in.

"I'm not going to ask," Pam said in her usual tone, hip out with an eyebrow raised. "Because that might make you think I care. It's closing time and I'd rather not have to wait for narcoleptic Sleeping Beauty to be kissed by her prince to go home."

With that she walked out, already changed into a charcoal pencil skirt and pink dress tank top layered by a cream cardigan, leaving the door still open. I got up from the couch more slowly than in my dream and made my way to the door – I already had a hint that my stuff was not in the room.

It was surreal, though, to enter into the main room of the club and see everything so _normal_. Eric was hanging his legs off the arm of his throne, texting some unknown person, although I couldn't even look at him that long without blush rising in my cheeks. I hadn't lied when I said I was a virgin and the whole ordeal, fake or not, was still so new to me. Ginger was wiping the counter and gave me a small smile as her eyes trailed toward to end of the bar where the pile of my things sat.

"Don't worry about cleaning up, Sweetheart," Ginger said and even in her dulcet tone, she still sounded like she wanted to laugh a little. "I got it covered for tonight. You just get on home and rest, okay?"

Pam was standing off toward the tables, her purse hanging off her elbow, texting too, but I refused to look back at Eric. I accepted Ginger's words, took my things off the bar (my keys were somehow on top) and didn't bother changing into my jeans or jacket as I walked out of the club into the cold.

I contemplated buying caffeine pills to avoid having another dream like that.

* * *

><p>Five nights later and the dreams kept coming. Most of the time, they never got any farther than the first dream, but they were in all sorts of different locations. My apartment, his throne and once even in that hospital room, which meant I woke up at 2 in the afternoon drenched in sweat and was completely worn out by the time I actually got to work.<p>

Eric, though, hasn't made a comment about my mother or brother since that night and it was either because he was actually remorseful or there was just no opportunity – I had been refusing to look him in the eye in pure paranoia (what if he found out about my dreams?). Ginger was still tiptoeing around me emotionally and Pam was the only one, beside the strangers, who treated me as she always did (which I was most thankful for). Barely anyone understood that I got over things by simply ignoring their impact on my life, although it was hard to stay more than ten minutes inside of the bathroom and the stress from everything was slowly mounting.

It was three hours into my shift and I was leaning quite heavily on my arm placed on top of my normal place at the bar where I waited for a table to clear. The dark lighting of the club only enhanced my desire to sleep without any sort of dreaming but the previous night's (day's?) one that involved the kitchen countertop and quite possibly the removable faucet told me that wouldn't happen soon. I was still trying to desensitize myself to the settings of my dreams so that I wouldn't blush whenever I looked upon them, but I was clearly failing when the mere sight of the door caused an intake of breath.

Ginger walked up to me, serving tray empty and a big smile on her face.

"Hey Honey," She said over the noise of the pulsing music. "You look tired, you okay?"

The concern in her voice was so evident that I felt bad for simply saying "Just dreams keeping me awake" without any further explanation. I wasn't used to people doting on me like she had been doing for the past few days, especially people of the female gender.

"Dreams?" Ginger asked, raising her eyebrows a little. "Nightmare dreams or _dream-_dreams?"

I wasn't sure what a _dream_-dream was, but the wiggle of her eyebrows as she said it could only lead me to believe she was talking about the kind of dreams I'd been experiencing.

"Uh," I stalled, uncomfortable discussing this with her – what if she wanted details? Then again, I had no one else to really connect to and maybe if I talked about them, they'd go away. "The second one."

Her look of relief was extremely confusing.

"That explains the blushing." Ginger let out a huge sigh and then giggled. "Here I was thinking you were about to cry every time. So you finally had Eric's blood, huh?"

She then leaned forward a little bit and spoke lowly as if she was getting in on hot gossip; "Or was it someone else?"

"What are you talking about?" The confusion was clearly written on my face.

"His blood, Sweetheart, his blood! Don't you know vampire blood makes you dream about them?"

"What?" This revelation almost made me want to sit down, but I was no longer as tired as before. How had I been working at Fangtasia for this long and not realized what all vampire blood did? "I thought, I thought it only gave you more strength, emotional instability, weird side effects like that!"

Ginger laughed so hard at my answer I could see her abs contracting.

"No, no, no, no, no – well yes, yes you do get a little bit stronger, but you also dream 'bout whoever you drank from and usually want to," For this she leaned in even more and tried to whisper, like she was giving me the birds and the bees talk. "have _sex_ more than normal."

I must've blushed yet again because she patted my shoulder with a small smile before straightening herself back up.

"Don't worry, after my first dream with Eric I never really wanted to go back – can't get much better than him! Although it was a little unnerving knowing that he could feel everything I did, at first"

With that she giggled once more and went back to the bar to serve some drinks. So I drank his blood and consequently lost my virginity in my dreams. And apparently he could also feel that; my eyes immediately flicked towards his normal seat and he was staring straight at me. He had a smirk on his face while he trailed his gaze toward his office before brining it back to me. I knew that signal; it meant we were going to have a private talk in his office.

* * *

><p>"Some of my employees have had concerns about your well-being," Eric said behind his desk as if he didn't have any inkling of my past few restless nights. Of course, if it hadn't been for my chat with Ginger I wouldn't have had any concrete evidence that he did at all. "If you want to request a few days off, that can be arranged – inconvenient, but not impossible."<p>

I knew I had to completely avoid the sentence "I don't want…" to stop any thoughts of that first dream but I was about three feet away was the couch and the wall and it was hard for me to fully commit to this small-talk conversation.

"I'm fine," I said, still trying to force myself to look into his eyes. The eyes that told me he knew exactly how nervous I was about being this close and alone with him, the eyes that told me he'd make me suffer this entire night until I brought up the subject that I'd been trying so hard to ignore.

We sat staring for a few more minutes, my heart beating annoyingly fast.

"I wanted to apologize,"

Damn him.

"My behavior was lacking and impolite." Okay, this was better – it wasn't a complete copy from the dream, I can and will survive. "If there is any sort of compensation you want, tell me now and we can avoid you quitting."

Different but still along the same lines and my palms started to sweat a little, I did not want to sit this uncomfortable ever again.

"Do you enjoy it?" I finally blurted out, hands resting on the outside of my thighs to dry them a little.

"Enjoy what, Daphne?" There was a playful smirk on Eric's face that told me he knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Giving girls your blood so you could feel when they have wet dreams about you. Do you get off watching ugly ducklings squirm beneath the sexual tension, the awkward side glances knowing it's all about and because of you?"

At this he stood, still a lion showing his prowess with a smirk and I forcibly stood up too, even though no matter what I'd always be shorter than him. He came around to my side of the desk, bringing his face so close to me that he could've bitten my ear if he so choose.

"I could have created sexual tension between us with or without my blood," At that he licked up my ear slowly and I embarrassingly shuddered. He probably could smell that I was a virgin and only in the deepest part of my brain did I concede his dream-way of telling me that tid-bit was preferable. "It's just an added perk."

And then he walked away from me, back to his club and no doubt to his throne where he'd find someone to fulfill the mounting pressure between us while I was stuck with only my dreams.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: That was really my first ever written highly sexualized situation and even compared to some that I've read, it wasn't that _bad_ (in terms of sexuality and awkwardness)...If you are expecting me to have a sex scene or something more-so than what I've written, though, you will be disappointed (although the teen rating should've been the first tip-off...).**

**I feel the need to also explain Daphne's lack of reaction in regards to the rather rude egging on of Eric in the last chapter. It isn't because she's a weak character or because I'm trying to confuse you into never knowing her true personality, but on a deeper level there's a connection between the two in which she knows he's rarely sincere with the face-value of his transactions. She doesn't know his game yet and is basically refusing the play until she does...**

**Thank you to all that have alerted and favored this story!**

**Thank you coolppl13, Lulu1996, cassie, SexyKnickers, TheInvincibleKay, weezerz2490, and ohlivtree for reviewing! Josh was actually a favorite character for me to write, although he didn't have _that_ many cameos. Regardless, he will be missed and Eric's treatment of the situation/crying will be revealed later on...**


	7. Chapter 7: Putting Away the Groceries

To say the work place hadn't become blanketed in awkwardness was like simultaneously claiming my transportation was a unicorn. I wasn't going to doubt in mythical creatures whole heartedly anymore, but I still had ground to doubt that if unicorns did exist, they would not come from a Toyota factory in the shape of a two ton sedan.

There were times reminiscent of when I first started; he'd point out a place I still had to wipe down, tell a particularly rowdy group of customers to leave the premise and then look directly at me as if he had gotten rid of them for my sake, say goodbye with a mocking "Have a good day" at the end of my shift, normal Eric-isms. Then he'd go and couple all the mind-easing moments with gestures that only reminded me of the still prevalent dreams. They were occurring less and less, the dreams that is, but Ginger also mentioned that his blood would always be within me (as opposed to the normal 4 month life span of my own blood cells) and therefore I'd always have them. I wasn't too keen on that idea; all the other side effects weren't first-hand felt by me and thusly less frustrating, but the dreams? I'd much rather be able to know where Eric was all the time and him dream about me in compromising positions.

And I was only truly comfortable admitting that because I know, unlike Eric, I would do nothing to encourage that the dreams would become reality. Instead of the nightly comments about my deceased, he has taken to touching me. Most nights it'd be a swift glide across the stomach through my shirt with his hand as he walked back to his office, although he's gotten away with standing directly behind me as I collected bottles from a table, holding my hips and briefly kissing beneath my ear before zipping away with his speed. Immediately after that incident, I almost dropped an empty bottle of Double X on the floor, which only would've hindered my new-found desire to leave as soon as possible. Ginger passed by with a grin so wide I wouldn't be surprised if she caught the whole thing on camera, but true to form later that night, when the club was empty, Eric went back to ignoring me in favor of his phone.

The moral part of me wanted to file for sexual harassment. Although, I didn't know who exactly the human resources person was (and I had a sneaking suspicion that _the_ person - vampire - already knew my complaints) and I didn't have a second job lined up if I indeed quit or got fired. Mom's insurance did last for a whole year on the apartment, and I probably did have enough money saved to pay for another half year of rent, but there was security in working. There was a routine and there was a comforting closeness to one of my brother's most favored spots - somehow I could ignore that this place was a removed cause of his downfall.

I didn't really need that big of a living space, though. It was only two bedrooms, while Josh, the martyr, slept on the pull-out couch in the living room, but neither of us had the heart to remove Mom's things. I didn't really have to will-power to remove Josh's. There were too many memories but moving meant having to go through my family members' personals and I was too spiritually lethargic.

Besides, the land-lord was in no hurry to loss me as an always on time leaser.

* * *

><p>"I'm thinking about letting Candace go," Eric said drolly as he lingered by a table I was wiping with a rag that probably spread more bacteria than it picked up. He wasn't looking at me, though, and I really was not expecting another one of his teasing encounters. Mainly because he was talking to me first, which was never a part of his M.O.<p>

"I thought you liked her," I replied, clearly not invested in the future employment of the hired dancer. "She seems to be attracting a lot of customers, too"

I didn't have to turn around to know that there was at least a small circle of Frat boys surrounding her "stage".

"That's precisely the problem," He stated as if it was obvious. "This is not a strip bar; I do not expect any of my employees to be whores."

I stifled a laugh as I finished wiping, imaging Pam being treated as a pimp's property. She may have to dress the part during work hours, but there is no way she'd tolerate being paid to be anyone's play-toy. A dominatrix, maybe, but a prostitute? Never.

I brought my eyes to Eric's as my laughs died down and he only raised his eyebrow at me, opening his mouth to ask me what I thought was so funny before immediately shutting it again. He looked toward the door, causing me to do the same, but I saw nothing extraordinary. Sure, Sookie and Bill Compton had just walked in, but apparently they were akin to regulars. Unenthusiastic regulars, and I've only seen their faces in passing before, but Ginger has mentioned how they're both somehow indebt to Eric. She thinks it's because of some trip to Texas they all took together about two weeks before I was hired, but it was all a little too mysterious for me. The AVL was trying to make vampires seem less superior and more equal to humans along with more democratic, but Eric's so-called power and the whole lineage of territory was more medieval than I could comprehend.

Bill set his eyes on Eric almost the instant he walked in the door, it seemed like, but the little blonde by his side was looking around as if there were new decorations on the wall. Having to see the place almost every single day meant that there was in fact nothing different about it than the last time she's been in here, although I'm sure it was a habit anyway. He had his hand somewhere on her yellow sundress-clad back and pushed her forward toward our own position; I doubted he even recognized that I was standing there.

I set the rag on the edge of the box I set in a chair and moved to pick it up to leave the shady business-partners to their secrecy, but the minute I turned to lean down Eric stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him and stared as I reached my full height once more; I didn't understand, most of the times when he had something to take care of that did not involve me in any way he'd waste no mere nanosecond in making sure I was far away.

He switched shoulders for his hand to be resting on, which I'm sure felt more like an arm rest at a movie theater for him, and I turned back around to see that both Bill and Sookie were much closer than I initially thought.

"Eric," Bill said through his teeth, as politely as he could.

"Bill," I could feel the smirk in the greeting while I stood mute. "Miss Stackhouse."

At the call of her name, she snapped out of whatever glaring daze she was in (a normal reaction for anyone who has been in Eric's presence more than once without a glamor) and turned her eyes on me. She had pretty brown eyes and reminded me of a kindergarten teacher, but she was still taller than me. Most people were and the oh-so-kind reminders of my height, like being a personal resting spot, were never funny.

"Who are you?" She asked me directly and even if it seemed abrupt, at the time I couldn't imagine her ever saying anything nasty. Maybe it was her country accent or the fact that she actually asked me personally instead of Eric, which most people would have.

"Daphne Leary," I said as if I was some young professional, hand sticking out and all. She smiled as she took it and replied "Sookie Stackhouse, and this is Bill Compton" pointing to her brown-haired, brooding companion.

Then Sookie did something completely strange – she giggled, put the hand I was just touching on Bill's arm affectionately and said "Yes, he's quite good at the brooding, isn't he?"

I stared at her. Openly and most likely rudely, I felt Eric's squeeze on my shoulder, but shouldn't he be feeling what I was feeling (with or without the blood)? How did she just respond to a private thought?

"Shoot," Sookie said as soon as she noticed the rapid change in air between us. Bill still looked ridged as before and I didn't chance to look up at Eric.

"You aren't that good at keeping secrets, are you Miss Stackhouse?" He mused from beside me. "It'd be best if we returned to my office."

And with that he released me and we all followed like little ducklings, me still with a dumb-founded expression.

* * *

><p>"So you can read minds?" I asked, sitting down on the couch (this time no memories of the dream surfaced), looking at Sookie as she stood in front of me. Eric sat behind his desk as he typically did and Bill stood stoically behind Sookie. She gave me a nod with a smile before turning to Eric.<p>

"I thought you had already told her," She explained her little slip up. "Why else would she be standing by you?"

"I stand by a lot of humans."

"No, you sit in front of them like some-sort of evil time lord or something!" She retorted, riled up from his patronizing. I really didn't mind her less-than-friendly comments toward Eric, he was the one that practically forced me to sit down as if her ability would send me into convulsions.

"I think Sookie's assumptions come from your own wording of our summoning tonight," Bill's whole role, apparently, was to stop Sookie and Eric fighting like siblings. He was either trying to calm Sookie down or prevent her from saying anything else reputation-ruining by placing either hand on the sides of her shoulders. "You did ask her to read Miss Leary's mind tonight, did you not?"

"Wait, what?"

I was sure the sudden spike in both interest and overall emotion (it was a long night) were enough to cause a normal person to jerk away in surprise, but Eric remained sitting in his chair as if he expected my reaction. As if he had told me the whole time that he expected my privacy to be invaded and that I'd be instantly okay with the offer.

"I'm not doing it," I followed my own wording quickly, crossing my arms over my torso like a petulant child. I didn't care if it was immature and I didn't care that I actually liked Sookie and couldn't pick a nicer person to pick around my head, I shouldn't have to pick in the first place.

Going by that logic, I shouldn't really be working for a vampire either, but it was the principle of the situation.

"You didn't tell her anything?" Sookie said equally astounded, turning towards Eric, out of Bill's hands. I suppose the constant paranoia that she just heard my last thought would be common place when around her.

"It never came up," He shrugged before looking at me with a more serious face. "And this will happen tonight."

"Or what?" I said, still in my brat mood. "I think tolerating your blood was more than a bonus this year, why don't we wait until next to completely invade my personal space?"

I could tell he was becoming irate and by the slowness of his rise out of the chair and movement toward me, I could tell that this night would most likely end with me having my mind read.

However, when he was within an arm's length of me (I had straightened out my back and placed my arms beside me to make fleeing easier although we held eye contact the entire time), Sookie stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"This really isn't necessary, Eric" She pleaded.

"I have told you why it is and it is not your responsibility to determine whether your jobs are necessary," Eric said, not taking his eyes off of me. I did not enjoy this game of chicken but my reason was noble (at least to me). One good thing of our whole addiction to having staring contests was that his eyes were exceptionally beautiful. The only real thing I had to hide from Eric, in my thoughts, were the ones of him and our whole relationship dynamic. I didn't sit in my room dreaming about being the next Mrs. Northman or anything; I spent most of my time cursing the fact that I was having dreams like a 14 year old boy. From all the time I spent harmlessly noticing the many, many trysts he had, I also knew, and never dwelled on the fact, that it was very improbable of us having the cutesy relationship I've learned to yearn for from Disney. I've had crushes before and I foolishly picked out the church I would've liked to be married in if I stayed 15, and it was safe to say I never wanted to be a mere notch on anyone's bedpost – vampire or not. Still, there was no denying that I did feel sparks of attraction most of the time I was near him.

"I don't mean it that way," Sookie said rather exasperatedly. "I mean, she's like an open book."

At this, Eric's eyes left mine. Does this mean I won?

"She's without a doubt the easiest person I've ever read. I blocked everyone out when I first walked in here, but I still managed to pick up her thoughts." After this admission, Sookie stole a side-glance at me. "I thought I just hadn't practiced in a while, but even now it's like her thoughts are my very own – even overshadowing mine."

Everyone turned to stare at me this time and I sifted further back into the couch. How could I possibly respond? I felt like I should be offended, was it some sort of test of intelligence to being read by a telepath? I did get a few B's in math, but I was no-where near stupid.

"Block her out, Daphne," Eric demanded from his standing position. I was faced against a couple of red-wood trees, it felt like.

"Please," Bill added, throwing Eric an annoyed glance.

"I don't," My eyes flitted from one person to the next before landing back on Sookie in the middle. "I don't know how, I've never had to do it before."

Sookie quickly joined me on the couch and turned toward me. She smiled a little while clasping her hands on her lap.

"Do you know any other languages?" I shook my head. "My friend, Tara, she tries to block me out by singing songs. My brother, he usually repeats the same word over and over again. In the books, people picture brick walls in their minds but I haven't met a single person who's tried that technique, yet."

And so, I went through each and every example of blocking Sookie gave me. I sang a song from the 90s that I knew by heart and I repeated the word "horizontal" for what felt like a thousand times. Imagining a brick wall being built was a little more difficult, especially since I wasn't a mason and never witnessed one first hand, but even my attempt garnered no result. Sookie said she could always easily move past my surfaced thoughts to the deeper parts of my brain and I'm pretty sure by the random blush on her cheeks that she got access to one of my dreams.

By the end of our tries, Sookie looked tired and confused as well as Bill, who had a splash of cute concern for her well-being and I could feel Eric's gaze on me. I didn't want to look though and instead I apologized to Sookie for being so loud in my head. She giggled half-heartedly and told me that it wasn't my fault before Bill requested to speak to Eric alone. They all but chased us out of the room with a broomstick.

"You know, you're a lot like him," Sookie said to me as we waited in the hallway, backs against the same wall as Eric's office door. I could feel the slight thump of the music from the club in the wall and I wondered how chaotic the seating area was.

"Who?" I asked even though I'm sure I knew the answer. For the second time, I didn't know whether to be offended.

"Eric, I couldn't help but see your past thoughts," She apologized. "You aren't nearly as mean and much more civilized, but neither of you really handle your emotions that normally."

Then we both laughed at my thought of a telepath telling me what normal was.

"We're both blond," I supplied. "Have not-average heights."

"That too," She laughed again before getting quiet. "And you're both still grieving."

That came as a surprise and I whipped my head to face her. Who exactly was he grieving? On cue, she leaned in closer to me to prevent anyone else from hearing (as if anyone could listen in).

"His maker," She whispered to me. "He died a little before you started to work here. I don't really understand makers all that well, Bill's never had a good relationship with his, not like Eric, but I think they're almost _more_ than parents."

That must've happened on the trip to Texas that Ginger mentioned. That must've been why he looked so apathetic when I first saw him. That must've been the only reason why he hired me.

The mood changed suddenly and likewise, the door to his office banged opened.

He knew that I knew now.

Bill walked through the passageway before nodding a goodbye to me. Sookie waved and mentioned that she would keep in touch before saying goodbye. I would've walked into Eric's office even if he hadn't stuck his head out and looked at me with the typical summoning look I was used to.

As with all of our private talks, it started in silence before I finally had the words to speak.

"You couldn't be alone," I said quietly, knowing he could hear me. "You couldn't be the only one to be sad and had to surround yourself with someone in a similar situation. Did you hire me to remind yourself that you didn't have it that bad or was it out of pity?"

"Both," He said simply, making this conversation a whole lot easier than I anticipated. That only increased the confusion that washed our relationship, whatever it was labeled.

"And all the comments about my mother? And the ones about my brother? Were they really just a ploy to get me to drink your blood or did you want to actually see me act out as your angst-y inner self?"

"I am not full of angst," He said like it wasn't a point of pride but rather a well documented fact. "But, again both; it was not healthy, Daphne, for you to hold in all your emotions as you did."

"Oh but it was for you," I scoffed as quietly as possible. Perhaps it was cliché to be the calm before the storm in hushed tones and perhaps I had always known that the reason for my employment would never actually raise my self-esteem, but I didn't like being a pawn with toy-able emotions.

"I am a vampire," And to assert that, Eric showed me the pointed fangs in his mouth before continuing. "I do not have emotions or needs like _you_ do."

He circled his desk and it was deja-vu all over again. His final point would be made and he'd somehow weasel out of my anger.

"Your grief was interesting," He said before hovering over me. "At first" he added as a second thought.

A hand reached up to touch my cheek, "and I could understand it more than I'd care ever admit".

I stared hard, though, into his face, regardless of the tingles his touch gave me. Eric did miss his nightly "make Daphne uncomfortable" earlier.

"But, as tonight's rendezvous confirmed," He was whispering and coming closer to my own face. I was going to go cross eyed soon. "You are so much more."

Eric got so close that it hurt to have my eyes open and as soon as they shut, his lips were on mine.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm pretty sure that within the next two chapters, the timeline should coincide with season 3, so that's exciting...**

**Thank you everyone who alerted and favorited this story!**

**Thank you to TheInvincibleKay, SexyKnickers and ixamxeverywhere for reviewing, you guys are really superb!**


	8. Chapter 8: Making Room on the Shelf

"No," I groaned with my lips still slightly together as I pushed myself away from him. We still were too close for my comfort, but at least no longer attached at the face. "No, we can't do this,"

Eric gave me the signature smirk before stepping toward me once more, grabbing my face into his hands and soundly kissing me again. If it weren't for the fact that I could feel his fingernails dig into my skin a little, I would've been certain that this was just another dream. Before I could pull away, though, he lifted his head to stare into my eyes.

"This is the only thing we should be doing," Eric whispered, deeper than I've ever heard, before lowering his head once more. Even though his hands were still on my face, I managed to back away. If I had still been in doubt of reality at this point, I would've known by my refusal that this wasn't a dream. My dream self never managed to "no" for too long and although I never seemed to regret it, I also didn't have the same implications following me there.

"No." For the first time I was clear and sounded as demanding as possible in that situation. "We can't do this and you can't do this. You treat me like an employee and then some sort of obedient pet and now a punching bag for your frustrations! It's confusing, I'm tired, and I won't have you tease my emotions anymore."

"Me, tease your emotions?" He laughed, but because of the sudden depth of his voice it sounded like a villain's. Eric towered over me and used his hands to emphasize whatever he was going to say next – one on my bicep and the other on my neck. His thumb traced the vein there and I didn't care if my trembling became noticeable. I only cared about the fact that I wished it was because I was scared, instead of the real reason. "Do you know what it's like, lying awake in the middle of the day, feeling you fulfill the _sweetest_ fantasies your little mind can concoct? What it's like to know that you're wriggling around on that old mattress of yours, that I'm pleasuring you in the only way that I can and yet I can't show you the perks of reality?"

"I-I can't control that, tha-that's the blood," I tried to say as calmly as possible but my cheeks were now burning and the massage on my neck was more distracting that I initially thought.

"It's not just the blood," Eric was composed and the shake of his head combined with his chuckle made it seem as if we weren't talking about the sexual encounters that have never actually occurred between us. "At this point, you should only be dreaming about me once a week, if not less. I've been a key player every single night in that head of yours."

I stopped kissing him so that in the long run I wouldn't be confused, emotionally and otherwise, but now I wasn't so sure that was a good idea. Ginger hadn't mentioned the normal amount of dreams, so I thought I was within that range. I didn't think I was harboring some very involved infatuation for Eric, outside of what his blood initiated, and even if I held more of a crush that I perceived, would that really cause the graphic dreams I had _ever_y night? Yes he was attractive and yes I felt like a giddy school girl if I thought about him too long, but it wasn't an intense fancy. I really wasn't that perverse of a person and often woke up with what felt like my whole body blushing, and very little of the information I had received the entire night put my mind at ease.

"Stop being confused," Eric murmured against my neck – sometime in my own horrified contemplation he had moved closer so that his hands were along my spine and his face nuzzling my neck. I was standing there awkwardly, barely acknowledging his affections until he spoke. "I can help you, clear your worries, satiate that curiosity,"

"Curiosity?" I squeaked as he pressed his lips against a soft part of my skin so hard I could feel the fang tips behind them. He then dragged them up until he was at my ear and spoke so that every few seconds I felt them – not strong enough to draw blood but enough to make me more flustered.

"Am I more skillful within your mind or within your flesh?"

That snapped me out of my reverie and I pushed him back like I had only moments ago. He did not want to budge and only complied with my pathetic yearnings with a small step backwards. He wasn't smirking this time and his fangs hadn't retreated yet.

"I'm becoming impatient, Daphne" Eric said like he was scolding a child. I tried to slow my heart rate and breathing by shear will.

"That's because you want a plaything," I said, not sounding nearly as confident as a statement like that should have. "I may be confused and have an abnormal amount of thoughts about you, but I don't feel dirty or used either. How many of your past flings can say or even remember that?"

I was still breathing too heavily for normal respiration, but I was more focused on Eric who took it upon himself to separate us even more. I was certain that I'd be the one to put distance between us. He had a hand on the bridge of his nose, rubbing it slightly and I couldn't see his fangs anymore. The clear "Get out" was unexpected, his stance lent itself to mutterings.

I knew it'd be a mistake, more so than kissing him and simultaneously not kissing him put together, to say anything so I backed out of his office. I was about to close the door when an impudent thought occurred to me. It was an impish one that wouldn't leave me alone and Eric was the only one who knew the answer. I at least had the tact to ask it quietly.

"Do I still work here?"

He answered with a sneer and I couldn't close the door fast enough. Pam told me that she admired my gull and would do her best to put in a good word for me and even through her sarcastic tone I gathered a hint of sincerity.

* * *

><p>"Your little blank whatever-she-is is sleeping again," Pam said as she leaned in the doorway to Eric's office.<p>

Neither had an inkling of what exactly Daphne Leary was – anything supernatural just came too easily when dealing with her. Her own reaction to vampire blood was too intense for her to be completely normal. Eric tried glamoring her within the first two months of her employment and found it to be as easy as diving into a heated pool. She did absolutely everything he commanded – nothing compromising, Daphne was underage at the time – without the second delay most humans had to consult their suddenly unemployed consciences. He had Pam try immediately after him, knowing that normally the stress of two glamors right after each other would cause at least a fainting spell, but Daphne only mimicked her intense susceptibility to vampire persuasion. Eric could smell her better than he could see her, even if she carried a flashlight with her in his club, and her aroma only seemed to grow the more time she spent there. To keep his investment, an employee and have no police tape near his club, Eric warned every vampire that Daphne was not a person up for interaction, with a penalty of immediate de-fanging to anyone who tried. The side-glances she received and seemingly ignored from those not allowed near her were not unnoticed by Eric and it was a perk that he was the only one to touch her. Even Pam hadn't tried since the first night she came into the club, although Pam mentioned that Daphne hadn't smelled any differently than any other human that passed through.

The confusion surrounding Daphne, and inevitably inhabiting her body, peaked her value and it was only when she slept that she devalued herself. It was unfortunate that her sleep habits had slowly started to overlap with her work hours, not to mention unprofessional, but Eric could not lose her and she was very apt at waking herself up within a few minute's time. Daphne hadn't complained, not even to Ginger, about not being able to sleep in her home and she never looked tired when clocking in, so her need to slump over the bar while waiting for a table to clear did not seem logical. Just another unexplainable personality trait that was noticeable to everyone else except Daphne.

It wasn't her sleeping that bothered Eric as much as it was her dreaming. She _did_ have wet dreams about him once a night and ever since she started to sleep on the job, about a week after their insufficient meeting with Sookie (Eric knew it was cruel to act as if nothing was wrong the next day at work, especially when she came in timidly and ready to flee the moment she felt unwelcome, but Daphne was the most interesting and honest when she had no idea what to think), every catnap included a snippet of those dreams as well. For the past two days, those snippets happened within the very meat of the dream and it left Eric feeling uncomfortable.

No longer was he amused at her dreams; it was like he had spent the last few years in celibacy and the only woman he wanted would not consent to him consciously. He refused to indulge on her subconscious desires by holding her tightly while they kissed until she finally gave up because there was no entertainment in that. Instead, Eric's been fetching a "lucky" girl within his club who smelled the least touched and had his way either until Daphne woke up or he felt satisfied. At least with her full dreams, Eric was exposed to all her emotions throughout their "act" – including the finish and proceeding moments of relaxation. With Daphne's catnaps, Eric felt the build up and had to supply the rest himself, which was not as favorable as one might guess.

She hadn't even stepped a foot near him since that night. Every so often Eric would smile at her during her shift just to hear her heartbeat raise and see her blush, but other than that their interactions were non-descript. The pulsing of Daphne's raising attraction to him was enough for Eric that he didn't bother interfering with her life – she obviously did not want him to, which only made her increasing crush all the more questionable. Whatever the cause, it was beneficial for her to like him all the more without his doing because it meant she'd be the one to come to him when the feelings were so unbearable to deal with alone.

Eric had hoped this would happen sooner than later, though, because these feelings were interrupting his entrepreneurship.

"Would you like me to find someone for you?" Pam said, still leaning against the frame, with a black heel taping against the floor. She didn't sound thrilled at the prospect, but she was willing to do whatever was asked of her.

"No," Eric was not going to sit back this time. It was unacceptable for her to sleep on the job and while Eric never claimed to be fair, if anyone else had acted like she, they would've been fired immediately. Just because Daphne had some unknowable heritage didn't also imply that she was deserving of special treatment, especially since Eric was dragged into the repercussions of his blood with her. "Wake her up and send her here."

Pam sped out of the door way and only seconds passed before Daphne knocked on the wooden frame (Eric had already put his head down to finish paperwork). She was a tiny human, barely reaching his collar bone with a figure that seemed to accompany those who spent too much time near vampires. It was strange that under those circumstances, humans almost always forgot to eat, while vampires never stopped thinking about it. She had dirty-blond hair that was only getting darker with lack of exposure to the Sun and matching pale skin. Wide brown eyes, a small nose and bow lips, she looked like a slice of Americana – the blush from the dream she obviously remembered only added to the patriotism.

"Sit down," Eric said as if they hadn't been working together for close to a year and waved his arm to the empty chair that she normally sat in. Daphne slowly walked in, but held his gaze like always, even after she sat down. The customary silence followed.

Eric stood up and walked behind her fluidly, removing the hair off her shoulder to start his usual neck violations. He had ignored the bulging of her eyes as he moved simply because the increase in her pulse was magnetizing. It was almost like he was out of control whenever the tension between them turned physical, which completely made up for her lackluster struggles against him, which had been the only turn-on for Eric for close to a decade.

"I-I thought we discussed this," She said breathily, inwardly cursing herself for sounding so un-like her. Daphne felt trapped in the chair as he slung one arm across her chest and the other on her shoulder as he manipulated the flesh underneath her jaw; she wasn't sure if it was the sudden intimacy so close to one of her dreams, but this attack of his felt greater than all the others.

"You expressed your wishes," He said between kisses as he moved upwards, bending forward so much that if he were mortal, he'd have an ache to last for a week. "I never said if I'd respect them or not, though."

"Eric," The moan was quite unintentional – Daphne did plan on saying his name to get him to stop, but he had hit a rather soft spot underneath the hinge of her jaw. It was ironic in the most angering way that the mere tone of his name encouraged him to continue rather than what she had originally intended.

He quickly detached himself, pulled her up so that she was standing on the chair – luckily she was not wearing heels and not harming the leather. They were the same height and just as fast as she stood up on her own two feet (his hands still clasped around her arms), he kissed her. It was searing and Daphne didn't feel like standing anymore, but she was being held up just as thoroughly as she was being kissed.

Eric ended it far too soon and Daphne this time was willing to admit it. "You want this," His forehead was against hers as he whispered.

"You want this but you're afraid that you're more attracted to me than I am you. You're afraid because this is your first time and you do not want to be one of those girls you hated in high school who regretted theirs. Because what if you turn out to be your brother?" At this, he kissed her sweetly which completely surprised Daphne. A hand reached up to stroke her cheek as her emotions whirled; she felt like crying, yelling and most ardently, return to kissing him. "You're tired of saying no to me but you don't know what will happen if you stop –will I be the ruthless bastard that always shows his head after it's too late?"

Eric kissed her once more, refusing her desire to answer and at the same time saving her from saying something that would neither make sense nor be pertinent to the conversation.

"I want you to know, my little Daphne," He was still whispering to her. "That I believe afterwards, I'll be so satisfied with you that no other will suffice." He moved his mouth over to her ear. "And I am never wrong."

That was the closest thing to monogamy that she had ever heard uttered from his mouth, which only fueled her to take her hands on either side of his face and pull it towards her so they could resume kissing.

* * *

><p>"Do you feel dirty?" Eric asked me, brushing the length of my bare arm as I shook my head against his chest. I wasn't exactly sure where we were – I knew it was a bedroom, but was is it in his house or were we still in the club? After I had initiated the kiss, he picked me up and we either zoomed or flew (I was too distracted at the moment to really pay attention) to wherever we were now. I didn't count the seconds it took to get to the bedroom and I hardly noticed when we did arrive until I was laid onto the sheets, so it was a toss-up as to which building we were in.<p>

I didn't really want to ask either; it was too soon to feel embarrassed. It was too soon to feel anything and I wanted to put it off for as long as possible.

"What about used? Do you feel I used you?" He had slid me underneath him and was propped up by his hands on either side of my face. He had really soft linens that cradled my hair as I shook my head again, a small smile on my face.

"Any more questions?" I asked as he eased himself downward.

"Yes, one," He said in one ear and then hovered over me for a few seconds to tease me, on his way to the other.

"_Am_ I more skillful within your mind or your flesh?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: A lot of "PDA" in this chapter, hope it was satisfying...The next chapter is when the third season will start, so be prepared for some deja vu.**

**Thank you to all who have alerted and favorited this!**

**Thank you so much to sj61, Nelle07, TheInvincibleKay, SexyKnickers, Janaina, Suni-Delight, Bexta03, and tooley for reviewing!**


	9. Chapter 9: Cracking eggs

"Would you look at that?" Pam asked, standing behind the bar as we were T-minus 8 minutes from opening. Black leather jacket oven a black lace top – she looked the part, whereas I was still in my hoodie as I looked over at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Our little barmaid's growing up," She said with fake affection. "I remember when you were just bursting to get in here, tears streaming down your face, and now you're sleeping with the boss! Remind me to send you a card."

"They make cards for these kinds of situations?"

"Well I don't know, you humans are strangely sentimental," She said, before walking towards the day. "Besides, you won me a hundred dollars that I must collect now."

"Who the hell decided to bet on this?" I called after her. "Pam!"

She just continued to walk out the door.

I relaxed back into my pre-shift pose. I had already gotten the speech from Eric about my expected conduct after our not-so-ethical escapade; I wasn't going to be treated like a boss's pet nor should I expect showers of affection from him, unless he initiated the contact. My duties would be what they always were and when I asked him if he would still try to touch me like he did all those nights to irritate me, he just laughed. I'm still unsure of whether or not that was a yes.

Eric also told me that I was to be placed on his lap during the peak hours of the club after that first night so that there would be no doubt of who I belonged to. I pointed out that no vampire besides him, Pam and the bartender ever came near me and the obvious bite marks on my neck would only further discourage any social contact with me – plus the peak hours were my busiest, would he really sacrifice a clean club just to parade me around like a prized Chihuahua?

As I found out later that night, sitting on his uncomfortable thighs while he stroked my own teasingly, Eric Northman was an expert at sacrificing things for what he wanted.

* * *

><p>It was a Monday night and it was eerily quiet. No ominous thunder storms or even heat lightning, although it was humid outside. Eric's bedroom, though, the room I was currently in, was set to a very cool temperature and I hardly felt bothered what-so-ever.<p>

The odd mood I was in was completely internal, and as I laid on the white cotton duvet staring at his alarm clock that proclaimed the date, my mood only dived. I was on the same bed I lost my virginity on; at least one mystery was solved, I was taken to his house that night. It wasn't raining then, either, but I was happier, so it fit.

I wouldn't say I was unhappy, though, not completely. I didn't know how to feel at the moment and my eyes wouldn't move off the red numbers on the nightstand – why he even had an alarm clock made no sense. I suppose he bought it for me, but I never needed one before and I'm sure he knew I didn't need one now.

"Have you been crying?" Eric asked me as soon as he stepped inside of the bedroom.

His house was in no way modest and the second floor was everything you'd expect of a plantation home in its modern prime. Elegant wood finishes, silken sheets with matching feather-downed pillows and comforters, not to mention the priceless pieces of mostly Scandinavian artwork hanging along the walls strategically; he lived in a home only Hollywood could dream up and yet he claimed only Pam and him did the decorating. If it weren't completely detrimental to my future health, I'd look through his invoices to see if any of them belonged to a home-improvement company.

We, however the old stereotypes went for master bedrooms being on the second floor, were on the first floor. Well, _I_ was on the first floor while an armoire in the corner of the room led to the hole dug out for his sleeping area. It most likely matched the rest of the décor of the home, knowing Eric, but I was not allowed to go down there, ever, so I could never affirm my suspicions.

"No, I haven't," I answered, my voice steady enough to displace any doubts. I hadn't shed a tear yet, but I was lying on my stomach faced away from the door with my feet in the area like a careless pre-teen talking on the phone.

I didn't turn around to face him, I didn't play the part of a dotting girlfriend or pet or whatever I was, I kept my time vigil. He wasn't emotionally needy – if he wanted to be looked at, everyone would know, including me. Eric already had my attention, he always did inside the house, and therefore I didn't have to make my acknowledgments obvious.

"Smells like it," He said off-handily as he took off his coat and hung it in the closet. He had just gotten off work and was preparing for his rest, like normal. "You feelings are abnormal, too."

The bed sank and I looked over at him, sitting against his heels and shirtless. I was still amazed by his speed, even if it no longer made me skittish. I knew I wouldn't weasel out of my attitude; I rarely could with him feeling everything I was. There was always a sense of guilt because whatever I felt, it affected him too, although it was his own urging that led to this in the first place. He knew what he was getting into, even if I didn't, and he has fed multiple people only to ignore their feelings. Somehow, he never tuned out mine – probably because of whatever hold he said I had on him.

"My mother died today," I said quietly, looking at him before pushing myself up into a mimicking position. "A year ago, I was waiting with Josh to leave the hospital without her, today."

We stared at each other for a little while and I didn't understand why. He never liked to dwell on the past or mourn for that matter – I didn't particularly feel like mourning that day, but it didn't seem plausible that only a year ago, I lost her. She was gone, I knew that, and I was only thinking on the oddities of moving on.

I never really understood why he put up with me, if I was completely honest with myself. The refrigerator was always stocked, there was girly shampoo in the shower, and he had begun to drive me to and from work. It all seemed inconvenient for him and while I was grateful, I didn't ask for anything. I understood our relationship as best I could; I was somehow addicting to either his libido or his blood thirst and he pushed me in the most annoying ways to keep me from going insane. I liked him probably more than I should because his part often came with protection born out of possessiveness and I knew it would be a very long time before Eric died on me, too.

The looks I got from the women in the club were very mixed, though. Some stared me and my marks with pity; an 18 year old girl with an all powerful male vampire, I must have been tricked against my will. Others stared at me with contempt; an 18 year old girl still maturing with very little to give on the surface, I must have tricked him.

I wasn't sure if he was faithful to me at all, but I was better off not knowing anyway.

"You met me a year ago, today," Eric commented, not showing any emotion that I could interrupt.

I smiled a little, "I wouldn't exactly call looking at you from across the room a 'meeting'."

He beckoned me with one hand as he scouted himself backwards so that his back was resting against a poster (he was opposite of the headboard) and his legs sprawled out before him. Once I got close enough, he pulled me onto his lap so that my legs crisscrossed at the knees on top of his.

"You've never been exact with your definitions, though," Eric said, right next to my ear. It was loud and didn't allow me to think about anything else, as I gazed at the sheets.

I asked him once why he chose white; a lothario like him was supposed to be more inclined toward black. He laughed while he asked why wasn't he allowed to show his softer side. Then we both laughed at the thought of his "softer" side.

"I have a poetic mind," I shrugged off his comment.

"Do you want to go plant flowers in the ground somewhere?" He asked completely seriously, which seemed unnatural.

"No," I rested my head backwards underneath his chin. It was comical how much bigger he was than me, I felt like the smallest nesting doll whenever around him. "We have to rest soon and she was allergic to pollen, anyway."

* * *

><p>Eric Northman was not having a good night by anyone's standards, the night Bill Compton went missing. Sookie had come barreling down the stairs in that tempting lilac dress and interrupted a private moment meant to be kept between him and Yvetta. He was only feeding at the time, shirtless, but Sookie acting as if he owed her something (aside from the money) and then being a brat when he corrected her, was not an encouraging situation.<p>

Having to chase her up the stairs, too, and ask her to rethink the proposition about Daphne in exchange for his services was fittingly not on his favorite list. The icing was Daphne waiting just in front of the closed door to hear Sookie's stress-filled rant, looking sinfully and innocently curious.

"No, Eric Northman, I will not!" She said emphatically. "To think you had the gall to ask me to read Daphne's mind after refusing to find my boyfriend, you know you're stupider than I thought!" At this point, it wasn't uncommon for a woman to start hitting her target but everyone knew she was no match for him, even less so with the tears threatening to stream down her face. Sookie threw a glance at Daphne, who only looked more confused and like a caught mouse. "And I can't lie to her anymore, I can't do it!"

"Sookie," Eric said in a warningly low voice, glaring a hole into the back of her blond head. Daphne really felt out of the loop, why was she being lied to? When did she ever have time to be lied to? Daphne liked Sookie, but she'd only seen her once after their initial meeting and that was last week.

"No!" Then Sookie completely rounded her body towards Daphne, with a hand pointing back at Eric. "He's been lying to you – four months ago your house was broken into and you were beaten half to death and –"

Daphne interrupted with a "What" as her brows furrowed and her eyelashes pressed against the top part of her eyelid. Sookie just shook her head, which made a few tears escape.

"He glamored you, you wouldn't remember, and he was asking me to read you to make sure you didn't!"

No one in the room look satisfied, and the massive amounts of lack of understanding emitting from Daphne only worsened Eric's night. Sookie stole his words right from his mouth as she turned towards him one last time to say "I hope you're happy," before leaving through the door Daphne had only just been standing in front of. She looked like she needed to sit down and if she kept her eyebrows that way, a headache was sure to come.

"Eric," She said slowly. "What's Sookie talking about?"

"Something that needs to be in private," He stated stonily, as if it was another business transaction. That's the role he always fell into when admitting something to Daphne, it was so much easier to be removed from everything and focus on how she was reacting. Then he could react to her accordingly and life would continue on as normal.

"Shirtless?" She quipped, still acting a little shell shocked as he led the way to his office. His continuing walk only answered her question.

"So, I was beaten?" Daphne asked once they were safely inside his closed office, as if it was a staged joke that he'd soon expose.

"Four months ago," Eric nodded his head, deciding the best plan of action was to tell her everything. He was misunderstood in the fact that he wasn't disinclined to telling the truth; only when it didn't benefit him directly. In this situation, though, there was no benefit either way and she was going to find out from the hurricane of emotion that was Sookie anyway. It was hypocritical of him to judge either of the two love-birds for being so involved with each other, and he felt Daphne's growing (but unvoiced) affection for him, but they were the smarter couple by keeping most things under the rug. There was no denying him of his nature and even with Daphne living in his home, he felt free. "Some fuckers who came to Fangtasia overheard about you living alone and decided you'd be the easiest target to steal from. They were inexperienced drunkards, though, and broke into your apartment during the day when you were still there. You had heard them, taken a rod from your floor fan to knock them out when they over powered you – evidently they had been on V and it wasn't a hard task. I could feel your pain, but it was still daylight and I had to wait four hours to reach you – by that time they had left and you sustained cracked and bruised ribs, a shattered ankle and wrist with a broken leg and swollen face. They knew you were mine and didn't take their damages further. Your back was the sole unharmed body part and when I got there you were unconscious from the pain. After I fed you some of my blood, you wouldn't stop screaming – even as I glamored you to tell me what happened, you were screeching the entire time. You healed quickly, but clung to me anyway and when I asked you if you would like to forget the whole incident, you said yes."

Eric said everything like he was reading from a police report.

"I glamored you to forget, moved you into my place and convinced your landlord to let you out of your lease. I had Sookie look into your mind to make sure the glamor took place. I then caught those incompetent thieves and gave them a better punishment than your judicial system would've allotted. Up until last week you acted according to the glamour, then you began to have terrible nightmares. I could hear you screaming underground and needed Sookie to confirm that you were dreaming of that day's events."

He had watched Daphne through his entire spiel, opened the channel to their bond to correctly read her and even then it was difficult to understand what was going through her mind. She was confused, yes, and he could plainly see her mind spinning as if trying to grasp onto a dream only half-remembered. It was a highly stressful situation for a human to try and undo the glamour, especially one blocking a traumatic event such as that, but Eric wanted to wait until she spoke to give her any advice.

"And this happened four months ago?" Daphne tried to be as blank as him, to gather all evidence before reacting, but it was difficult. He nodded once more. "And when I asked you why exactly we were living together, it wasn't because you liked keeping your food source close?"

"Not exactly," Eric conceded. "Primarily, I wanted to prevent another occurrence like that from happening, but it is nice to wake up to a meal readily available."

She didn't laugh, neither did he, and there was anger slowly bubbling upwards like a volcano. The story, apparently an event in her life, made too much sense – Daphne didn't remember when exactly she decided to move with Eric nor did she remember drinking his blood that week afterwards when the side effects were so prevalent (although the tension from the dreams were easily curable). She had been waking up in a cold sweat for the last week but could never figure out why and Eric rushed her out of the house before she had time to think about it.

"And I was the only one who didn't know about this?" Her voice was getting slightly more high-pitched. A terrible sign to Eric.

"You said you didn't want to remember it," Eric said calmly. If he stayed calm then perhaps she'd take the hint. "I only followed your wishes."

"I was glamored when I said that!" She said loudly, raising out of her seat.

"It is impossible to lie to me when you are!" Eric copied her volume, eyes still steely cold.

"And it's impossible for me to think about all of the repercussions, I wasn't in my right mind!"

"You can not blame me for wanting one thing and doing another out of a sense of duty or logic or however you justify things," That comment wouldn't help, Eric knew, but her deepest desire in that moment was to forget about her beating and he granted it. She repressed moments of pure pain and he didn't understand why anyone would _want_ to remember that experience.

"Oh, and I guess I can't blame you for smelling like all the women you sleep with while we're here? I can't blame you for the bloody necks of the women coming out of the Employee's Only door while you waltz out after them? I can't blame you for the number of times you've told me that only I satisfy you the same nights that you call me cute pet names to hide the fact that you're too tired to remember my own?" Daphne was getting more and more hysterical, which he had only seen ironically the same night that started the whole "fight". "Even Pam looks at me with pity, your fucking child Pam!"

"I never promised you monogamy," Eric said without denying or accepting her accusations.

This time she laughed sardonically.

"No, no you didn't. And I'm a fool for even expecting it just a little." Her breathing was slowing as she got more composed, but she didn't sit down. A minute passed before she continued. "Eric, this isn't working out."

"What?" He asked too fast, finally breaking out of the calm façade he put on.

"I'm a human, Eric" Daphne looked at him, tears lining her eyes but not falling. Too many women tonight were holding back their tears. "I knew you wouldn't be just mine, but I hoped foolishly and…and it hurts more because I know how stupid I'm being every time you affect me like that. I probably wouldn't want to remember a night like that, but I feel coddled and…and,"

She trailed off as the tears finally started to create their river paths down her cheek and she met his eyes once more before turning out of his office. As she shouldered her way out of the club, she felt scared. She wasn't used to being doted on, even after Ginger's blatant displays of affection in a motherly way, and the constant watch of Eric combined with his guarded demeanor only confused her more. She couldn't handle the grey areas of their relationship even though she was well on her way to actually loving Eric. It was in everyone's best interest if she left, anyway.

Once Daphne left the club, Pam stood in Eric's doorway, looking after him as he stared blankly at the chair she vacated.

"Do you want me to fetch her?" She asked quietly, watching his reaction closely. It was hard not to overhear them and Pam felt surprisingly guilty. She hadn't meant to look at Daphne with pity, not noticeably anyway – but it was hard after hearing about how severely she had been beaten, especially when she was called by Eric to get human necessities as he situated Daphne in his house. He was rocked, Pam could tell, when Daphne was first brought over and Pam knew that anything to alter Eric so soundly could not have been remotely good.

Pam also knew that Eric had not had sex with another woman since he and Daphne started knocking boots. Why, it was beyond her comprehension, especially with his past bouts of fucking-without-care, but he was loyal to her in terms of intimacy. He had only fed from other females; he told Pam that sharing blood between the happy couple had been purely on a lust basis and he wanted to keep it that way.

Eric'd been frustrated with their bond, as of late, though. Almost as soon as her nightmares began, Eric commented on how she didn't smell quite as vibrantly anymore. Last week, when he had first propositioned Sookie about reading her mind, she had commented that Daphne was harder to read than the last time. She was harder to glamour and her dreams about Eric had almost completely stopped. It was strange and while they did still have sex, Pam thought that if he had only picked another throw-away fling to be with, the oddities would no longer distract him.

Still, with her maker's loyalty to the human, even Pam got a little more attached to her than she'd ever say out loud. The shake of his head to answer her question as he still stared at the chair only made her concerned, but it was just another human, wasn't it? Sure she had been there for more than a year, and been through more emotional roller coasters with the grace of a vampire that made her the tiniest bit proud, but she was dispensable like a tissue, weren't she? Isn't that what Pam had been taught all along?

Neither heard Daphne outside of the club, calling 411 to find the number Sookie Stackhouse, speaking with said woman and confirming that she could stay at her house for one night before driving her to the nearest airport the next morning.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: A not so happy ending, obviously. But I refuse to say I'm sorry because I do not plan on a (spoiler alert?) tragic ending, so don't worry.**

**Thank you to all who have alerted and favorited this story!**

**Thank you to sunidlight, Nelle07, Sphfecter, TheInvincibleKay, SexyKnickers, and WolfAngel 75 for reviewing! It really does mean a lot that you take the time out to review and comment on the story and/or my writing. **


	10. Chapter 10: Savoring the Truth

"Hello?"

"Sookie?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"It's Daphne, Daphne Leary"

"Daphne! Oh I haven't heard from you in ages, how are you?"

"I'm good, have you found Bill yet?"

"No, but I'm in Mississippi lookin' for him – there's a pretty hot trail, I can feel we're close"

"Should I call another time or…?"

"No, no you're good, we're actually taking a little break – what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh, well um…It's a little personal, ah – did you and Bill ever use…_protection_?"

"Protection?"

"Um, yeah – protection, you know, when you 'did' it?"

"OH! Oh, oh protection! No, sweetie, no we didn't. He's a vampire, you know; they can't contract STDs or anything, no chance of pregnancy, there really was no need."

"Oh, okay, thank you,"

"Daphne, is there – is there a reason why you asked me?"

"Nope, no I was just curious, you know…You're the only other person I know who's been _with_ a vampire, only person to ask,"

"I understand completely – but I'll tell you Daphne, if I were to ever, _ever_ be intimate with someone else – someone not a vampire – I would use protection, it'd be stupid not to."

"I know, thank you Sookie. Thanks for answering my question – I'll let you get back to your hot trail."

"Oh, okay sweetie, it's no problem. If you have any other questions, personal or not, don't hesitate to ask, okay? I'll always be willing to listen and the minute you decide to come back from Chicago, you better tell me! All that cold isn't good for you!"

"Ha, yeah Sookie, you'll be the first to know. Thanks again, buh-bye."

* * *

><p>Two months had passed since I ran away to Chicago. Most of the money I put away from working at Fangtasia, from not having to pay for rent or food anymore, and left over from my mother's insurance, not to mention the few dollars I was actually allowed to have from my brother's bank account via the US government, meant I could actually function in a big Northern city for almost four months without a job.<p>

Still, the apartment I got was a one bedroom and it took a while to convince the landlord that having an 18 year old as a tenant with no real credentials was a good idea. Surprisingly it took less time to convince the owner of the diner on the outskirts of the city, one of the last stops on the metro, that while I had work experience my employer wasn't reliable because of the nature of my departure. She evidently had a daughter herself and remembered all the troubles that come with girly naivety, and so I had gotten a job within two weeks of my escape.

Life was working out and the lessening paranoia of running away from a man who no doubt could track me like a piece of mail was only alleviating all the bad luck I had accrued in the past.

It wasn't nearly as hot as Louisiana, or as humid, and it was only windy near the lake, which made the city perfect to explore during the nights I couldn't sleep. Those happened far too often for comfort – I was only slowly getting over my nocturnal habits with the stimulation of my daytime job. I had started to abuse caffeine as a way not to get fired for falling asleep on the job (I doubted that Madeline Klaus would've handled my sleep habits like Eric). One of her first cautions was for me to never go outside at night by myself, but I wasn't afraid. There were still bite marks scarred on my necks that acted as tear drop tattoos, warnings for both human and vampire criminals alike against hurting me. Eric told me once that his kind could smell the age of the giver of the bites and since he was ancient, I was virtually untouchable by everyone. Most humans, while Chicago was a very vampire-liberated city, still were wary of coming near me anyway – Madeline suggested I start to wear scarves to thwart any reason against me getting a tip. She never asked me how I received them or about my past; if I had known my grandmother I'd like to imagine her as stable as Madeline.

Marks aside, I was getting more attention from guys than ever before. I wasn't sure if it was my closed off emotional state that acted like a beacon to the male population who always waited until halfway through a conversation to realize I had been bitten before, but whatever it was I wanted to turn it off. It felt unfair that every guy I met was compared to Eric, but it helped in self-preservation. I never wanted to get in another relationship again at that point, especially if my immediate reaction to their endings was me moving to the opposite side of the country, and I truly felt like a tease once someone started talking to me as if they had any sort of hope. It was only a month ago, almost simultaneous with the thought of if Eric had truly wanted me back he'd come and find me by then, that I realized how deep I felt for him. We never spoke of our feelings to each other, mainly letting our skin do all the talking, and the ignorance of our affections apparently had clouded over my own knowledge of my affections. The fact that he had so clearly rejected me after I left him was only further diluting my self-esteem, even though I had never really expected him to sweep me off my feet in the first place.

He was a vampire and I was a human, I made that clear when I left and it was healthy that we were on the same page.

From the conversation I had with Sookie, though, and the three tests that stared mockingly at me, I realized I wasn't physically as healthy as I needed to be.

I was pregnant and a scientific anomaly rolled into a ball that had its own emotional baggage.

Before my phone call, I deluded myself into thinking that since vampire's still had blood and could actually get sexually aroused, that perhaps only their heart was the reason they weren't "living". If that were the case, it would completely explain my situation, as I had no other partner other than Eric. Even in my dreams, that came back full force almost the moment I left Fangtasia, it was always with Eric.

After my phone call, I didn't know what to think. I didn't know how to act and even Madeline commented on how I was acting extra-zombie-ish. For a woman in her early sixties, she adored watching modern sci-fi movies.

Those many tests couldn't lie, though, and I had missed two periods already. I wasn't the poster girl for regularity, but I've never skipped two in a row and I've never wanted a hot dog in my life before last week, either.

It seemed, though, the moment I looked at Madeline, she understood my predicament without _knowing_ it. Without knowing just why it was so shocking to be pregnant – my age could only be a plus in keeping her out of the loop, I suppose. About three weeks away from being nineteen, alone in the city and a country "good" girl, my situation was already pitiful without even the mention of vampire. Any luck I had in the beginning of this experience was completely flushed with the fetus growing inside of me.

She told me she understood if I had to quit. She told me she'd even cough up the money for my air fare. She told me that she could get in contact with a family that would love to raise a child.

I didn't know how to respond – I was going to quit, yes. I was going to go back to Shreveport, although I could definitely pay by myself (and I was quite lucky I had signed a lease that stated I could leave with only a weeks' notice as long as I did no damage to my apartment, seeing as my rent was a month-to-month deal). What I didn't know was if I was going to keep the baby – baby or vampire? – inside of me. It wasn't entirely my decision to abort, but I was strongly opposed anyway with my often misplaced morals, and I still wasn't coming to full-terms that I was indeed pregnant. In any case, I couldn't tell Madeline that I'd adore for someone else to look after the growing miracle, or phenomenon.

* * *

><p>I unlocked Fangtasia's door with the key I failed to give back after I first used it. It had been a weekend and Ginger had skipped out early to attend some family duty she had made Eric aware of weeks in advance. Eric trusted me to be the one to lock up and therefore trusted me to have a key to his business. I was to return the key the next night, though and seeing as the next night was Sunday (my day off), it was Tuesday until I returned to work again. By that time, everyone had forgotten about my sacred duty and the key remained equally forgotten on my key chain.<p>

Forgotten until the airplane ride when I realized that Eric had to be the first one to see when I got home. We may not have left on amiable terms, but this was his child and our supernatural predicament and being so much older than me, Eric should know why exactly I seemed to be the first human impregnated by a vampire.

It was dusk when I touched down in Louisiana, though, and I didn't know if I'd be so welcomed in his house, so the best place to wait for him was at his job. He'd have the upper hand with his true vampire child there, and I had to flatter him as much as possible, I figured.

When I arrived and Pam wasn't at the front door, with barely any cars in the parking lot, I expected the club to be empty and for my wait to be very isolated. I wasn't going to question the early closing; with the whole Russell Edgington fiasco, I doubted that many people wanted to actually come to a vampire bar. I did not expect to see Yvetta holding Pam against her pole with a silver chain.

"Daphne?" They both questioned almost immediately as I walked through the door, the club being well-lit despite the hour. It was humorous, their position and the fact that they said my name with the same exact infliction of disbelief, but I didn't laugh. I was too confused, even though I knew it was very rare for a normal night to happen in this place, I still couldn't help but wish my news was all that'd be difficult.

"What are you doing here?" Pam asked in a smoker's voice, trying to lengthen her neck to avoid the burns. Yvetta had only slackened her hold once with my arrival before holding it tight once more.

"What's going on here?" I asked, trumping her question.

"We are getting our revenge," Yvetta said triumphantly in her Eastern European accent. I wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, and my facial expression reflected that, but I didn't press on.

"I-I have to talk to Eric," I wanted so bad to mutter. To keep any information about my return as hush-hush as possible. "Is he here?"

"No," Pam moved once more. "No, he stepped out, but if you free me I'll be sure to let him know you've stopped by."

They both looked at me, pleading for different things. Yvetta for me to be on her side and Pam for me to let her go – it was odd to see Pam need anything from me and seeing as I wasn't too close to Yvetta anyway, I was already leaning toward helping Pam out. She must've known, though, because she always had tightened her grip on the chains.

"Whatever you're thinking," She threatened, once again speaking English with her heavy accent. "You can just stop."

"Yvetta," I said, stepping further into the club towards them. "Whatever revenge you're after, it'd probably be greater sought at a different time. When you're dressed more properly or when you have the actual vampire in your midst, rather than his child." It was only logical that she'd be after Eric, instead of Pam. "Whoever you're working with will understand that child-maker relations aren't that strong, and Eric would probably give her up anyway. If you regroup, you can think of an even greater strategy. One that doesn't involve a public place and comical errors like me walking in."

It was a total lie about the child-maker relations, but when I worked there, Yvetta wasn't that knowledgeable about vampire happenings and I could only assume no one took the time to explain to her anything. Still, she stared at me for a hard second before cursing in whatever was her native tongue and completely releasing the chains. They fell onto Pam's lap, which she quickly pushed off of herself, while Yvetta continued to curse her way out of the door – giving us the finger with both hands.

Pam muttered out a thank you as she rubbed her healing skin.

Once it returned to its creamy tightness, she immediately looked up and zeroed her eyes on me.

"Daphne Leary you are pre-"

The sound of the door opening cut her off and we both stared at the incoming guests. A slightly balding and clammy vampire followed by Sookie Stackhouse, both of whom did not seem happy to see us.

"Daphne?" Sookie asked as she wiggled her arm out of the vampire's hold and ran over to me, before crushing my head to her chest in a tight hug. "What the hell are you doing here? You need to get out! You told me you'd call before you came down!"

"Sookie," I managed to squeak as my breathing deepened considerably. "Sookie I can't breath. I know I said I'd call, but something came up and I really need to talk to Eric, have you seen him?"

"Yes, yes she has," His familiar voice hit my ears like a favored song from my adolescence. I blushed just the same as I would if I was caught mouthing the lyrics to the song, and as Sookie pushed herself away from me I finally felt the hostility in the room. Eric stood at his full height and Bill looked guiltier than I've ever seen him before, the balding vampire - Russell - stood smirking behind us and Pam hadn't taken her eyes off of me since they walked in.

She knew, which only meant every other vampire in here did too. All of my good luck had seemingly been equaled by bad and then some.

Eric briefly skimmed his eyes over me before turning to Russell, who moved forward to take Sookie back into his arms and force her into a chair.

"You didn't mention you had a vessel, also, Viking," The vampire said casually in a southern drawl, as he too looked at me.

"If I may question, your majesty, what vessel? Their existence is a mere rumor, a myth to entertain bored humans," Eric said drolly, not looking my way. I moved slightly closer to Pam.

"If you recall, so were we some years ago," Russell chuckled at his own joke before looking back at me. "Vessels are as real as you and I, although most were killed once found out. All the signs are there; it seems careless that you've ignored such blatant omens. You've found a pregnant one, too, what a true and beauteous rarity. We'll talk about collections later;" At this he turned back to Sookie. "We have more pressing matters at hand".

What the hell was he talking about? My heart beat quickened rapidly as my hands found my stomach – I connected it to my incoming maternal instinct of heightened senses to protect my young – what was a vessel? Why were they killed? What obvious omens and why did I have them? Every single question running through my mind, at the same exact time that Eric and the vampire were talking about Sookie being a fairy, stemmed from the singular "What was he talking about?"

Pam was the only one to pay attention to my slight freak out, appropriately so, and grabbed my hand as soon as I inched close enough to her. It was completely uncharacteristic of her, but when I looked her in the eye half expecting her to immediately drop it, the caustic expression made me realize our connection wasn't for my sake only. Although it provided a nice distraction from the savage drinking of Sookie's blood.

* * *

><p>She had pulled me against her, toward to corner of the room almost as soon as she was healed and had her choice words against all vampires. Pam was the only one who seemed bored by the whole situation.<p>

"What are you doing here?" Sookie whispered to me, this time expecting an answer.

"My dear fairy, you do realize we can still hear you?" Russell laughed from across the room, playing the waiting game with Eric for the sunrise.

His piece of information did not inflate my confidence for answering.

"I can't tell you," Still, I whispered back. "Not here, at least."

And then I tried to call her name within my head; I was supposed to be easily read, right? She could hear me right?

Her lack of response made me realize that she must've been blocking my thoughts, either out of habit or to conserve her strength.

"And you asking me about protection, did you deliberately ignore me and decide that you wanted to have a child with some guy who was probably disgusting and didn't care a single stitch about you?" I couldn't blame her for acting offended, this was a trying night for her and in some ways I felt as her very removed and estranged sister. However, I couldn't even tell her yet again that I could say anything yet, because Russell's burst of laughter rang through the air once again.

Everyone looked at him, even Bill as he sulked in the corner while the early on-set of the bleeds occurred from his nostrils.

"You don't know anything, do you?" Russell's eyes became solely focused on me, even though he was addressing Sookie. "Vessels aren't impregnated by humans," One more laugh sounded as if the idea was truly preposterous. "Only the seed of a vampire could be sewn in a vessel's ground; the most obvious trait of a vessel, and the easiest to tell one by. This one, though, if she were in her prime, her smell would probably be as strong as if she stuffed her fingers up my nose. Mmm, I have not smelt a vessel in such a long time; you truly have a gem on your hands, Northman. Pity we don't know the proud father to be."

There was too much in his revelations for me to even feel anything. I felt offended, on one hand, because he talked about me as if I was a lesser being – even lesser than humans to vampires – and I felt relieved on the other because my situation was suddenly explained. I had been desperate ever since I found out I did indeed have a bun in the oven to grasp an explanation, and even though this was the first time I heard of such a thing that I apparently was, it made some kind of sense. My being a vessel might've been the only attraction I held over Eric, and while that realization stung a little, at least I finally understood why we were together.

At the mention of the father, though, Eric and I suspiciously looked at each other immediately – thankfully Russell was too much in his own head to notice. I blushed almost at once and looked back down as I felt Eric's eyes on me along with Sookie's astonished ones.

"Is it true?" She asked me, lowly yet again. A simple nod and she put her hand up to her mouth. "Oh my, the questions now- oh Daphne I'm so sorry for assuming, I didn't mean anything, Daphne-"

I quickly stopped her; "It's alright, Sookie, you didn't know. This wasn't supposed to happen in the first place, you couldn't have known."

"Au contraire, little Vessel," Russell interrupted our conversation again. "Your sole purpose on this Earth is to get pregnant by a vampire, it was going to happen whether you liked it or not."

Nothing that came out of his mouth soothed me in any way and sappily, the only way I wanted to be soothed would've been very stupid on my part. In the first place, we were separated by my own doing, in the second place I was carrying his very mythical child, and lastly it would be a very bad chess move to reveal who the father was to Russell. I didn't know him, but his stunt on camera and all of his actions thus far did not qualm my fears about his sanity, and I was much safer with him knowing as little as possible about me.

I could only hope that these hormone induced feelings would subside soonly as I crossed into my second trimester.

* * *

><p>Watching Eric stay chained to Russell Edgington, burning alive, was absolutely heart-breaking. Yes, I had finally come to terms with the fact that I did love him and his reaction to hearing about his child was less than satisfying (although I understood why); there was no closure to our relationship as we hadn't even exchanged proper words yet. Pam crying near the bar wasn't helping my swing emotions, either.<p>

I hadn't begun to cry, I could only stare with macabre feelings as he died while Sookie was rallying to save him. She didn't even need my consent, but with one look from me she left the club. It wasn't until he was brought back in, charred skin, that tears actually started to leak and one hand moved to my mouth while the other went to my underbelly. I was showing slightly, only because I had been so thin beforehand, and it felt alien to actually have a stomach.

Eric simply looked at me, though, as his skin healed itself slowly and Pam stood by him, ready to give in to any desire of his. We were about two feet apart and the mounting the feelings, restrained by both time and distance, was becoming over-whelming. I tuned out Sookie's grumbling about having to save Russell too, as I launched myself at Eric. I was never bold with showing our affections, he had to start every public touch, but our roles had changed drastically as of late and I didn't really care about being stoic anymore. I didn't really care about pushing all of my emotions to the back of my mind until provoked as a defense mechanism.

I was a vessel, impossibly with child by a vampire, and I was a foolish teenage girl. My actions never had to make sense.

He caught me, though, and didn't even grunt as I pressed myself as close to him as possible. Eric only copied my movement of wrapping my arms around him, one hand against my head making sure it stayed against his chest, while the other went to the small of his back. I closed my eyes to avoid crying on him, and tried not to smell him so deeply. I was enveloped in nostalgia and felt safe for the first time in a while. We only moved when Sookie brought Russell back inside; Eric helped secure his silver against the pole that Pam was only against hours ago.

Eric had briefly alluded to the plan to make Russell suffer after everyone woke up from their well-needed sleep, before walking up to me once more and embracing me. My arms automatically fit around his waist as he stroked my hair, while explaining that he'd discuss our situation after everything was finished.

Then he kissed my head and left with all the others.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Interesting chapter, no? The longest one so far, but I completely made up the whole "vessel" stuff. The next chapter will explain more of that though, so you won't be sitting in the dark for too long. And I'm afraid that more fluffy situations will be happening in the near future which sort of makes me cringe, but Daphne's been through enough stress, so she needs this...**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has alerted and favorited!**

**Thank you SuzuranCrow23, ..LoVe, sunidlight, Gypsy17, TheInvincibleKay, SexyKnickers, ixamxeverywhere, and black'n'burgundy for reviewing! I'm sorry that Eric didn't chase after her and for basically emotionally abusing my own character, but I swear everything has a purpose and will be explained properly!**


	11. Chapter 11: Preparing Breakfast

We had been sitting in awkward silence for what felt like half an hour, Sookie and I. She had already gotten most of her anger out by stuffing the disgusting remains of that vampire down the sink, but I could still feel unsettling tension. Whether her unknown feelings were against me, this situation or something I didn't know – I was unsure.

We were side-by-side, a forgotten magazine where she sat before moving next to me. My body was telling me to sleep but my brain was buzzed.

"So," Sookie said, trying to start a conversation in a more cheery tone than she probably felt. "Are you going to keep the baby?"

"Yes," I said, before immediately adding, "No – I mean yes I want to keep it, but I don't even know if it's a baby, or if Eric wants to keep it-him? I don't know."

"I could tell you what it is," Russell Edgington coughed from his position, back towards us. We'd been trying to ignore him all day – save for the time when Sookie bartered with him. He didn't try to buy me, just use me as a bargaining tool for Sookie which she thankfully didn't fall for.

"I never pictured Eric as the father-type," It was a forced giggle, but the image that came along was funny enough.

"That's why I'm hoping it's a baby," I said, finally looking down at my own stomach. Something is growing in there at that exact moment. "So it can go up for adoption, just in case,"

We once again ignored Russell's laughing as we fell back into silence. It was odd; I'd never been a nervous chatter before, but it was helping clear my mind a little.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, taking my turn to talk. "About Eric."

I had only briefly heard that Sookie was quite livid with Eric, Bill too and all vampires who she'd ever crossed. Still, it felt wrong to be so liberally talking about someone she hated as if she didn't at all.

"It shouldn't be you apologizing, but thanks," She patted my knee. "Although, your leaving probably had something to do with his attitude,"

I blushed and this time she really giggled. "So, are you really going rescind all of your invitations?"

"Yeah, at least for a little while," Sookie admitted, the conversation turning back to being serious. "I can't keep being the bait, especially when I never know that I am the bait."

"Just a few more hours, then, and your life will be incredibly dull," I said, a smile on incase she took offense to my sentence. I had been up far too many hours without any sleep.

Sookie gave me a pointed look before trailing her eyes to my stomach, back to my eyes again. Then we both laughed.

* * *

><p>I was taller than Eric, for once.<p>

He was sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed while I rested on my shins on top of it, pulling a warm comb through his hair. It didn't matter that I still had to elevate myself a little to be actually taller than him, I was in once in my life time and I'll be sure to bring it up numerous times in the future.

He had cement caked in his hair; he explained the reason in a single sentence once he walked through the doors of Fangtasia before bursting out of there with me in hoisted in his arms (very confused, I might add) toward his home. We said very little the entire time, Eric was determined to take a shower before talking to me but I pointed out that the steam might make the cement re-liquefy and get even further stuck in his hair. That led me to acting like a monkey or a hairdresser, finely adjusting his hair to prevent such a tragedy.

"I'd never seen a vessel my entire existence," Eric said quietly. From my position I couldn't see his face, but I knew this wouldn't be a light-hearted discussion. "That's why I assumed they were myths, but Russell Edgington was much older than me. There's little doubt he has seen everything that we now hold to believe as fairytales.

Legend states that a vessel's sole purpose is to get pregnant a vampire. Various polytheistic religions have explanations for a lesser deity being summoned to Earth to mate while texts removed from _the Bible _have alluded to their existence as mercy gifts toward the damned in hopes kin would cleanse their soul. To ensure that a family happens, though, a vessel is supposed to be extremely susceptible to a vampire's influence – both the glamour and his blood, heightening the side-effects so that a favorable outcome occurs. It's unreported, but I do believe Miss Stackhouse's easy read of your mind is also attached to your vessel status. The legends only include the pre-pregnancy state of a vessel, though – Russell was right when he said all were killed once found out."

"But why were they killed?" I wasn't sure if I was even paying attention to properly grooming his hair or if it was just a relaxing repetitive motion that I didn't want to stop.

"Think about it – a human-vampire hybrid; even in today's _civilized_ society, the prospect of a being would scare both species."

"Oh," I said, stopping my ministrations for a second. I didn't feel like there was a target on my forehead yet, but if word got out, I might. I felt his hand on my forearm, but he didn't turn around.

"You are not going to die," He said, sounding absolute. "Shall I continue?" I muttered a yes and resumed my movements.

"Since no pregnant vessel has been recorded, I have to assume that the reasons for your latest characteristics. I believe that since you have fulfilled your duty, all that made you easy to spot has dulled considerably as protection; you're more resistant to glamour and lack your usual smell, everything that would draw a vampire or anyone to you has been practically eliminated."

"But, but how come I started to have dreams again?" I asked, curious now. I didn't realize I smelled so good in the first place. "After I left, the dreams about you started up again like they never stopped."

I could tell Eric was smirking when he answered. "Perhaps your body just missed me."

"Yeah, yeah" I tugged on his head with the comb a little harder than usual, and he gave me a pity head-tilt because it couldn't have even hurt him. "But why exactly am I one – a vessel, I mean? I think I would've heard about something like this running in my bloodline."

"Random genetic mutation, I guess," Eric answered with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "The legends never mentioned a hereditary lineage, only that vessels occurred every couple of centuries; your chromosomes must have bastardized themselves somewhere during your development."

"Hey!" I said, pulling on his head so hard this time that I actually saw his face before he brought it upwards again. "My chromosomes are not bastards!"

And just like that I was on my back, shins still under me in what felt like a very awkward yoga position while he straddled me, arms near my head keeping him from falling on top me completely.

"Oh really?" He asked playfully, the comb forgotten in my right hand. There were still flecks of cement in his hair, actually complementing the blond, but I did my best getting all the huge chunks out. None brushed me as his hair uncharacteristically hung down to partly cover his face, was it the position or that look that excited me a little?

But even as compromising as we were, that didn't stop us from taking the humor out and turning it into our all time favorite staring contest.

"I didn't have sex with any of them," He said quietly, making sure to look me in the eyes and nowhere else. I felt out of breath as we laid that close without really touching. "I drank from them, yes, but you were the only one I was intimate with."

And just like that, I felt like a bitch.

The expression on his face showed that he was confused by the onset of tears forming in my eyes – these hormones were making my emotions much more haywire– but what did he honestly expect with an admission like that?

He backed away far enough for me to slide out of his hold so that I could properly get off the bed and stand up. "I-oh God-Eric, I'm so,"

I was fumbling for a way to apologize, I felt so terrible. I ran away because I doubted so much in our relationship and to hear that my doubts were merely paranoia?

Yes, he blocked out a very traumatizing event that I didn't necessarily want to be told that I experienced in the middle of a club, and yes I did have ground to assume what I did based on his past experiences, but I wasn't happy those two months I was away. I wasn't happy those times when I did assume what I did and to suddenly realize that I had no reason to be unhappy was stressful. I had pitted a stupid made-up thought against all the times I actually enjoyed his presence and moved myself more than 1,000 miles away from the vampire I apparently loved. I spent so much time and money and it was all a giant waste.

"Hey," Eric said trying to get my attention, holding my forearms. "Calm down – you're making _me_ feel uncomfortable."

"But, what I said to you," I said, voice cracking a little. I hated feeling this way and to sound it too was only more disappointing. "What I accused you of, of me leaving for apparently no reason, of me thinking that you did for all those months – I'm so sorry and I feel so bad and why did you just let me leave without defending yourself?"

"It was only natural for you to be insecure," He stated like he's given this exact speech many times. I don't know if that gave me confidence that he actually thought of what he would say to me once we did reunite or wear me down more because I'm not the first person he's said this to. "You seemed determined to end things with me and given the time, I doubted you would have believed me if I negated you. I thought the excuses were exchangeable, not the sentiment."

"So you just let me leave, even though now you have you arms wide open for me as if nothing ever happened?" I was confused going on angry. There I was making an ass out of myself and he didn't have the decency to correct me? Maybe he was right, maybe I wouldn't have believed him if, when we fought, he told me he was faithful (loosely speaking, but I never really counted sharing blood as a relationship pillar), but he could have tried. He could have tried to make our relationship work since there had to be unspoken strong feelings on his part, too.

Instead, Eric sighed and moved a little farther away from me, still holding me by my forearms. "You are not one to be cosseted Daphne, and I'm not one to cosset. You are an adult and you made a decision; I respected that. Believe me, if I didn't like you nearly as much as I do, I wouldn't have."

Somehow that was the conversation/argument ender and he pulled me into a hug. We stayed relaxed in the middle of his carpet; he had shed his tracksuit jacket that had been covered in cement to reveal a very soft cotton wife beater. It smelled metallic, but I still laid my head on top of it.

"You should probably shower," I said, not bothering to lift my voice so it didn't sound muffled; he would hear me anyway.

Eric practically enveloped me so he could reach my ear, "Care to join me?"

* * *

><p>"You never told me if you wanted to have a child with me," I whispered as we lay beneath the sheets. Eric said he was simply lying with me until I fell asleep, but there were no windows in his bedroom and I had a small amount of hope that he wouldn't leave even after I fell asleep. We were facing each other and I was playing with his hand – it was so much bigger than my own.<p>

He stayed quiet for a little while, allowing me to mesh and mold his hand in different positions – for comparison purposes, strictly speaking.

"I didn't have a human family," Eric answered quietly, not looking me in the eyes for once. He was drifting off, watching my lips or my chin – I couldn't tell in the dark. "It was expected to continue the line, but I thought I had time."

I could feel the moment his eyes met mine and felt the brush of his other hand along where the baby should be. I forgot to ask his opinion of what I was actually culturing within my uterus, but I suppose that could wait another day.

He had already admired my growing figure in the bathroom – about the same time he usually started to feed from me in our escapades, but instead he kissed me hard and resisted that particular step of our routine. Afterward, when the actual washing part came, Eric told me I needed to eat more and urged me to drink his blood. I asked him where he got his education was as a prenatal doctor and he then told me I'd have an appointment with a "trusted" doctor-friend the following week.

"I'm not entirely adverse to the idea of having a child with you," His versions of a 'yes'. "Even if it's part human."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the wait! It was hard to start and even then, I'm not fully satisfied with the beginning of this chapter...Anyway, if you have any more questions about a vessel, just tell me and I'll be sure to answer sometime in the near future. I don't really like how objectifying the explanation of a vessel came off, so it'll be remedied next time. **

**Thank you everyone who has alerted and favorited this story, it's exceptionally ego-boosting (in the best way)!**

**Thank you black'n'burgundy, ixamxeverywhere, TheInvincibleKay, Suni-Dlight, ashley anomaly, dragonfey57, tHeDaRkEnEdHaTrEdOfLoVe, SexyKnickers, tooley, and ohlivtree for reviewing! Quite a number of you were concerned with how many similarities this plot-line will have with _Twilight_, but I have to confess I've never actually read that series. Any coincidences you find are purely eerie, although I will not have a baby burst through any stomachs or things like that. **


	12. Chapter 12: Let it Sizzle

"Well, you're coming along normally," Dr. Ludwig stated as she packed up her medical gear in the stereotypical black doctor's bag she carried.

"Normally?" I asked and by the look she gave me, and then Eric standing behind me, I could tell we both had our eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"As normal as your bastard of a demonic thing you procreated can let you be," She said snappily. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"I think what Daphne wants," Eric said passively as he put his hands on my shoulders. "Is you to not sugar coat her condition."

"Yes, well it's impossible to know her exact condition." Dr. Ludwig grumbled as she moved toward the door. Why Eric thought having my first doctor's appointment in his club was a good idea was not known to me, but I could understand why he tolerated the short, mostly rude doctor so much. She had no woes about stating her hatred for being bothered by him and therefore not a threat to lying to him about anything. "I have no precedents to study and I'll be damned if I refer to a fairytale for textual support. Her vitals appear normal but who knows what'll happen when that little _devil_ actually develops to do some damage. In the meantime, I do not recommend you feeding from her."

"And if she were to feed from me, what would be the repercussions?"

Dr. Ludwig stopped by the door, hand raised and the other on her bag in clear impatience.

"There aren't too many cases of pregnant women feeding from vampers who weren't already addicted to the blood and other narcotics that could have caused the eventual defects," She stated as if she was reading from a text book. "However, recent testing on mice has found those fed had children more likely to survive compared to the control group – besides, your little monster is already exposed to the blood lust, you might as well indulge it."

With those hopeful parting words, she left Eric and me alone in his empty club. It was the Monday after we were reunited and he assured me it wasn't a giant loss to his business for him to be closed once more – even though the Edgington fiasco did nothing to help the vampire reputation. The severity of the backlash against him worried me even more about the secrecy of my current health status and the worded guarantees that no one outside of our circle would know didn't stop me from questioning the strength of the people that "had" to know.

I knew Sookie wouldn't tell a soul, no matter how little faith Eric had in her ability to keep her mouth shut, but I hadn't seen her in a couple of days and neither had Bill (although from his own outward appearance, I suppose that was more of her choice rather than coincidental avoidances). Selfishly, I couldn't be too worried about her, though; I was nervous about the doctor's appointment and Eric barely handled feeling that well, let alone concern for another female that "shouldn't be prioritized so high."

"I'll have to feed from other females, you know" Eric said tactfully in a quiet tone. I turned around to face him in what I knew would be a long conversation and leaned against a table only months ago I cleaned regularly.

"Because Tru Blood is just that disgusting, right?" He scoffed at the mere thought.

"I don't ask you to eat tofu, do I?" It was meant to be a playful comment, but I shook my head anyway. "Then be kind enough not to limit my sustenance."

We stared at each other a little more and surprisingly, in accordance to his character, I had no doubts about his loyalty to me. The past few days were as if I hadn't left for those months, although there was a little more hovering involved to protect his "investment". It was annoying, especially compared to living alone in a city I barely socialized in, but I imagined most of it was pre-appointment jitters as well. I fully expected to have a little more freedom after today.

"I want to start a daily regimen of feeding for you," Eric said and I imagined him already marking in his day timer all the times he expected me to suck his blood.

"And if I don't want to?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You heard what Dr. Ludwig said," He replied, not impressed with my attitude.

"I heard her call our child the spawn of Satan in very creative terms," I wasn't going to back down. I may be young and I may be completely new and shell-shocked to motherhood, but I was not going to tolerate someone who belittled my situation. My hand was subconsciously on my slight bump. "I understand why she has to be my doctor, but I don't have to respect her or her guesses at what's best for my baby."

"What's best for _our_ baby is your survival and it's unknown if you will without my help."

"You can't just pick and choose what you hear from Ludwig, Eric" I was offended at his suggestion that my entire existence was based on his involvement, even if that wasn't his exact intention. "My vitals are normal for a pregnant woman-"

"You are not a normal woman," He interrupted still in his calm tone. That was either a bad sign or the sign that we'd end our discussion soon. I didn't know which one I preferred.

"No, no apparently I'm not. I'm some damned vessel who might as well kill herself after this baby comes because my purpose in life will be completed,"

With a distinct skink sound, his fangs dropped as he hissed "Don't be so stupid."

At least both of us were offended at this point, although I was touched (in the deepest part of my heart that wouldn't see the light of day) that a mention of my suicide caused such a reaction.

"Oh, I shouldn't, should I? You're the one who told me that folklore; a bit primal, but I am a mammal, aren't I? I was already a bundle of DNA coded to ensure survival to reproduce and keep the species alive, why not add a supernatural twist to further diminish any chance of my independence!"

"You do not understand," His fangs were still down and I had stopped leaning against the table because it seemed too casual, but we weren't any closer to each other.

"What don't I understand, Eric? What part of me did you gravitate to? My sparkling personality or my smell? And when I returned, you ignored like a worthless minion until you found out I actually was carrying your child. If I wasn't pregnant, would you still have taken me back, acted all caring like you have been? How much of me did you actually like and how does it compare to your lust?"

I could barely register his movement when I was suddenly back to leaning uncomfortably over the table while Eric restrained himself over me. His hands clutched the edges and I could practically see myself in his shiny front teeth, but now was not the time to primp.

"How does my being a vampire affect your love for me?" His voice was low and rumbled through my chest. He could feel my fear, I knew it, and the magnitude of it allowed him to keep steady. Apparently I took too long to answer as he roared slightly louder "Answer me!"

"I-I can't-"

"You can't distinguish me from what I am, can you?" It was unfair he could word what I had been trying to say without me knowing exactly what I wanted to say in the first place. Instead, I shook my head. "Then allow me the same courtesy. I knew you were special just as Sookie is special, but you do not see me attending to her so diligently do you?"

I didn't bother to point out that no one could actually find her to dote on, I felt too small in that moment.

"I would have allowed you a second chance when you came back, in a different, less dangerous situation – your species did influence the speed of our reunion, but I imagined you would prefer our being together quicker than you sitting alone wondering if it would happen."

It was an arrogant statement but not entirely inaccurate. I wanted to cry, oh I wanted to cry, but I had already promised myself to rein in my emotions and there was a small part of me that didn't want Eric to win yet another fight.

"I don't like being demeaned," I admitted, still leaning a little too obtusely. I had hoped he'd let up his tower as soon as his point was across, but so far no such luck. "For so long I was ignored like every other person on Earth and then suddenly I'm not normal and everyone is talking about what's best for me without addressing me or acknowledging the previous years of effort put into living my life, I had a life before this and you, Eric.

When I was 6, Josh taught me how to ride a bike and I could ride for a whole street length without training wheels on my first day – you didn't know that and you probably don't care, but I did that by myself, Josh didn't trail after me or hold onto my handle bars. I may not know what the fuck is happening in my uterus, but you don't either, and I'd really appreciate having my opinion matter."

Eric's eyes were exceedingly blue for those few minutes I focused on them. I didn't hear him retract his fangs, but I could see the pressure lessen on his lips. He leaned back and before I could fully right myself, he pulled me into a hug. Hand placed on the back of my head to his chest, I had no other option than to hug him back.

"I am highly suggesting you partake in my blood," I could feel his voice vibrate in his chest and it was all too comforting. "And I am highly suggesting it be daily, but I will not force you."

"It wouldn't stick anyway, your 'force'," I mumbled into the fabric of his shirt. "I don't have that much repressed hatred for what I am that I can't see the perks."

* * *

><p>"No, don't, stay away from the beer," Pam less than enthusiastically reprimanded me as I stood behind the bar. Ginger's hours had been cut due to the lack of interest in vampires lately, and Pam had been called upon to pick up the slack. I'm sure the only reason she said anything at all was because when she had to explain to Eric why I was allowed behind the bar, she could truthfully say that she told me I was not welcomed.<p>

"Pam, if Eric tries to punish you, just say I threatened you with silver or something." I said simply, shifting on my feet so that neither leg would cramp. I would have to ask for a chair to be brought back here sometime soon. "I'm pregnant and therefore not expected to think sanely."

She shrugged her shoulders and went back to ignoring the customers who wanted refills until they walked up to her.

I was seven months pregnant and already getting the odd stares from the die-hard patrons I had once interacted with. In the final accordance of a compromise, I was allowed to work until I couldn't see my own feet and afterword I was expected to sit pretty on the couch inside his office, reading a maternity book or knit a baby blanket or whatever I was supposed to be doing according to cliché. Seeing as any maternity book would not be relevant to my special case, I had no need to read nor did I feel the urge to commit to a craft that would guarantee horrendous blisters on my fingers for the first few weeks.

Still, I did sort of wish I could read maternity books. Dr. Ludwig always gave the prognosis that my vitals were exactly what they should be and that I was going through the normal trimesters, but when it came time to perform an ultrasound, it was impossible. She jellied my stomach up, but the little whirring machine only showed an inner-layer of what appeared to be skin. It was strange how she could clearly hear the heartbeat of my child, but not even see it or penetrate the womb with the needle used to take amniotic fluids for prenatal disease testing. We all figured it was once more a feature attached to being a vessel, a dinosaur egg-like shell formed within my uterus around the actual egg to prevent any damage.

While the thought of that sort of protection was comforting, it was also troublesome; I couldn't find out the sex of my child or even what exactly it was and there was no sure way to know how Eric's blood was affecting "it". I had decided to only partake in two feedings (drinkings, really) a week because I really preferred not being nearly as affected by his blood as I previously was, and who knew how susceptible I'd become if I drank every day - pregnant or not.

Sookie was still missing and even with Eric's assurances that he'd feel her in trouble, I couldn't help but worry. In the short time we'd known each other, she became a surrogate sister and one of the only people I'd prefer knowing about my condition. Bill's sudden rise to royalty did not do well to assuage my feelings toward his knowing; he was a gentleman whenever we interacted, but the idea that he was so apt at politics that he became King did not make me feel like I would stay hidden on the supernatural radar just because we had cordial interactions. Ginger of course knew I was pregnant, but not with Eric's child and she was astounded when she saw that we were indeed together again. I didn't blame her and she shrugged it off as another vampire thing that wasn't in her job description.

"Pam, correct me if I'm wrong," The familiar voice of Eric wafted into my ears. Previously, he had been holing up in his basement – on the phone plotting something most likely sinister. "But this does not look like my office; I remember it having a little more light,"

"It smelled nauseatingly of lavender Febreeze," Pam quipped without even turning around.

"And had less drunk people allowed in it,"

I merely looked at Eric with a small smile, a look a small puppy would most likely get away with.

"It's boring in there," I said, still shifting a little.

"I told you to bring something with you," Eric retorted as if I was his daughter.

"And I said it'd be more entertaining to be out in the club, I've really grown fond over the dingy décor and gyrating of your patrons."

"At least get a chair if you're going to suffer out here, you look like a perturbed cat."

"I tried to bribe Pam to get one for me with the offer of no longer having to be the godmother, but she didn't budge. If I didn't know better, I'd say she likes her involvement in our preparations for the baby." I said as she turned around, not amused.

As Eric's "first-born", she'd already be in our child's life but I thought she deserved a title and seeing as my first choice, Sookie, was missing, I figured godmother would fit. When I first told her, Eric watching in the background like I promised he could when I suggested it to him, she practically retched and sarcastically asked whether her duties included wearing a fuzzy tiara and carrying around a wand.

I had no intention of forcing her into his/her's life more-so than she wanted, but it was fun to tease her about it regardless.

It was odd to see Eric so paternal; he participated in every test and meeting that Dr. Ludwig performed and held and asked Pam to help me decorate a spare bedroom in his house for the nursery almost immediately after that first doctor's visit. We both told him it was too early and it was comical how out of his habitat he was when it came to anything dealing with children. I wasn't too worried about him being a father though; while I hoped my child wouldn't end up as snarky or apathetic as Pam was in the very beginning, I knew through their interactions he was perfectly apt at taking someone under his wing.

He did constantly touch my stomach, though – more-so than Ginger and she did not hold back her excitement towards my pregnancy in any way. I could feel the baby's movements, every finger flex and head tilt. I didn't need a doctor or a book to know that wasn't normal, but it was down-right heartwarming to feel the baby's movements toward Eric's hands whenever they were on me. I was getting too cheesy as my pregnancy wore on and I tried my hardest not to let it show.

We had a plan for when I did go into labor. We'd travel to the nearest hospital, assuming I could wait until night fall to go to the hospital, and after the delivery occurred, all of the doctors and nurses involved (including the notary detailing the birth certificate) would be glamored to never remember my labor or recording the birth. It wasn't too specified, but neither was my pregnancy, so at least it was consistent.

It was mundane to play the waiting game, but it was all we had left to do.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Forgive me for waiting for this long in writing the chapter - I just was not inspired at all and it probably shows. There's only one more chapter left, though, so be prepared...**

**Thank you to all who have favorited and alerted this story!**

**Thank you to TheInvincibleKay, ..LoVe, ThatGirl54, Nelle07, ixamxeverywhere, Janaina, SexyKnickers, and ashley anomaly for reviewing!**


	13. Chapter 13: Dinner is Ready

Eric and I sat across from Bill in his posh-ly renovated plantation home. He had called us for a meeting the week before, which left us (mainly me) in a lurch. Eric speculated that the meeting was only intended for him, but since I was only 3 weeks away from my expected due date, Bill was smart enough to know Eric wouldn't leave me for an extended period of time. That was the first and only compliment Eric gave Bill that I heard.

Bill was looking directly at me, though and did a complete 180 from the polite small talk we had in his foyer. "We can help you, Daphne."

"We?" I questioned, shifting a little on the leather chair. It was hard to get comfortable anymore; I couldn't cross my legs and had to have a pillow behind my lower back almost permanently, which meant I was also in the perfect position to slip downwards. It was comical to everyone else but me; even Ginger didn't have that much experience with pregnant women and so my antics were "fresh and edgy".

Eric was less than a foot away from me, but he sat stone still as if he didn't notice I was there at all. That was his tactic whenever he dealt with Bill, me included or not. He became more guarded than ever before and waited for longer to reply, as if he needed that much time to contemplate his words.

"The AVL, we have the resources to aid you in whatever way you need, before and after the birth." Bill had his hands folded on top of his desk, and it felt a little too _Godfather_ with his offer to be made.

"You told them?" It was more of a shriek than a question, and I saw Eric stir out of the corner of my eye (either in auditory pain or emotional, with the sudden spike of anxiety), but my eyes were trained on Bill. No matter how much doubt I had regarding his knowing, I had always thought that it was brought on by motherhood paranoia and not actual doings.

"Of course not," He said, laughing it off slightly to hide the offense. My heart rate didn't slow at that, though. "I would not tell anyone without your consent, I am merely suggesting that you could benefit from their involvement."

"They are not to find out," Eric finally spoke with a finalized tone as he stood up. "If that's all you wanted to see of us about,"

Bill tore his eyes away from me to look at Eric. He looked stress; he never seemed like a politician – secretive and more willing to survive than he let on, yes, but I didn't imagine that he was too happy being King. Still, Bill wasn't going to relinquish his crown any time soon and according to Eric, he didn't deserve my sympathies after his dealings behind Sookie's back.

"Eric, she cannot have this baby on her own," Bill sounded like he was trying to convert a child. "You know of the backlash such a child would create if the human world knew about it. The AVL is powerful enough to support her and it; it'd be a much more relaxing, safer lifestyle and better for all parties involved."

"Do not doubt in my ability to protect her," Eric warned, not yet dropping his fangs in what I guessed was faux respect. It was funny how even though Eric held too much hatred for the vampire in front of us, he was not willing to cross simple social lines meanwhile most humans had no qualms letting the object of their hatred know and_ feel_ it. For every barbaric move of a vampire, he covered it with two civilized steps.

"You cannot protect her forever," Bill tried to reason. "Especially when she has her baby, it will be impossible to hide that it is different. You once alluded to emotions getting in the way of judgment; do not let yours be so clouded as to not see the merit of this opportunity."

"Can you not refer to my child as an 'it'?" I asked, finally standing up and slowly making my way behind the chair to put my hands on it. I knew I had to involve myself to lower the tensions a little. Bill muttered a "yes, of course" in an apologetic tone. "And forgive me for doubting your character, but you've had eight months to offer me protection – why now?"

There was a pause of potential energy buzzing around the room; Bill switched his gaze between me and the desk.

"I've had quite a full schedule," It sounded like a crappy excuse. "Having to adjust to ruling, ensuring the safety and allegiance to our rules,"

"Which could have been avoided had dear Sophie-Ann lived," Eric said, I turned to look at him, standing tensely behind his own chair.

"Eric," Bill warned.

"Sorry, my King," Eric sneered. "I am merely recounting the story of your rise to the throne; however you have heard our answer to your proposition and we would be grateful for this meeting to end."

"I have heard your answer, Sheriff," Bill said starting to make his own tone acidic. "Not Daphne's,"

With that, all eyes were on me and it was funny how one of the rare times someone asked me of my opinion separate from Eric's, it was the same as his.

"I'm sorry Bill," I said instead, sidestepping toward Eric to grab onto one of his hands.

Bill coughed singularly in defeat before standing up and buttoning up his jacket. "Of course, I will respect your decision. I do hope, however, that it was made on your own conscience and without the influence of your partner."

He gestured toward the door, "I trust you know the way out – I would show you, but the head that wears the crown rarely sleeps with it on."

The small joke was meant to make our relationship seem light despite all that had transpired, but none of us smiled as we made our way out of the door and house.

* * *

><p>"Am I really in that much danger?" I asked later that night after I had gotten ready for bed. We already made the decision that it was in everyone's best interest for me and the baby to become nocturnal – supposing the baby wasn't already. I was wearing a much too large shirt – I was one of those infuriating pregnant women who only gained weight in her stomach, but that also meant my balance was completely thrown and no clothing ever fit me correctly. I hated to complain about the gestation period since I was ever so close with what was growing inside of me, but some of the side-effects were simply annoying.<p>

"Yes," Eric said as he continued pacing in front of his bed. He had taken to sleeping with me, but it seemed he wouldn't go to bed too early this morning. "Most vampires would see your status and our child as a path to power over all species, no matter how civilized they seem. If the AVL knew, they would most likely use either one of you as a token to gain more political power. While you would remain nameless in their transactions, the risk for publicity would be greater. You made the right decision tonight, refusing Bill's offer."

Eric's pacing only increased as he spoke, even if he was more apt at politics than Bill, life for vampires had not been easy these past months. With the slowdown of his business and me added on top, I doubted if he were ever truly at peace. He tried to never show his cards, but after living with him and being in his presence for longer than I endure sanely, I had more than an inkling of what he felt most of the time.

"Eric," I said, heaving myself off the side of the bed to rest my hands on his forearms. It didn't take much to touch him these days, with the ever large bump, but both I and the baby reached for him regardless. "I trust you and the people you trust. Whatever precautions you and Pam have taken, and will take, are sure to work."

"It's not enough," Eric muttered, looking at the top of my shoulder. "Even with all the glamors, we cannot hide you and our child underground for the rest of your lives – Bill was right in that respect, as much as it pains for me to say it."

I squeezed his forearms until he looked me in the eye. "You listen to me, I know you and I know that if anything were to happen to either of us, there would be no rest in the entire United States until we were returned safely. It scares the shit out of me to know that there will be threats made against our child, but the only thing that keeps me going is your diligence."

We shared a moment of complete and utter cheesy understanding.

"And I swear to God, Eric Northman, if you doubt yourself one more time I will not be afraid to ban you from the delivery room."

* * *

><p>"He looks odd," Eric commented as we were situated in his spacious vampire cubby at the very bottom of his house. While there was no decoration on the walls and the artificial light was stark, the bed was large and comfortable and the floor had even been tiled. Swaddled in the softest baby blanket made (so says Pam, as it was her gift to us) in my arms was our newborn son, asleep with his head tilted toward me and an arm lagging off towards Eric from when he had held his dad's finger.<p>

We had arrived only a couple of minutes earlier; our initial plan for the delivery to occur at night actually happened and according to the doctors before they had been forced to remember meeting me, it was the strangest birth. That comment was expected for me, although hearing that I was perfectly dilated by the time we got to the hospital was concerning. Getting complimented for how I was pushing when I really didn't feel anything was just as weird as the excess layer of whatever formed around the egg coming out afterwards, too. Eric took no time in telling me how gross everything looked as our son was being washed but I was too antsy to get my hands on the being that had just been inside of me for eight months and three weeks.

"He's perfect," I whispered as my eyes were still on our son. Pam had been called to help glamor after the birth certificate was signed: Joshua Alexander Northman. I had asked weeks back if we could name him after my brother; Eric agreed stating that he was the reason we even met in the first place. I thanked him by allowing him to name him something Scandinavian like his background, although the suggestion of Thor like the comic book was not taken keenly. He preferred the name Alexander more and Pam conceded it was a strong name before leaving us "sickening lovebirds to admire our creation for hours on end". It was daylight, I knew from the slight redness of his ears signaling the onset of the bleeds, but neither of us were ready for sleep.

"He is perfect," Eric agreed, running a finger down Joshua's sleeping cheek. He had already held him once in the hospital while I drank a premade concoction, dashed with his blood, to regain enough strength to get home, but we both felt a need to be in constant contact. "He is my son, after all, but he does not look like a normal human child."

It was true, his skin was too smooth – it showed no vein or blush from heat, just the natural yellowish Caucasian tone, stretched like it was photoshopped. Josh was as small as any other baby, but his eyes were as startling blue as his father's and his grip was similarly strong (albeit the size of his fingers alerted his strength). He was a silent baby, only moaning a little during the time when he was away from me and Eric while being washed, and quick to fall asleep when I started to coo at him mid-flight. It was almost as if we held the same connection as we did when he was in the womb, still gravitating towards Eric whenever he was near.

I only had him for a few hours, so it was impossible to determine how off-species he was, but it didn't really matter in the moment.

There was a crib in the corner, we decided it'd be safer for us if Josh and I hid underground for the first few days until the smell of either of us wore down to not attract attention. Other than that safety measure, and the ones involving numerous locks and an emergency escape plan, everything was a toss up. We'd have to live day-to-day; assessing the dangers and potential of our son and it was unclear just how much social interaction we'd get the first few years when Josh didn't have a very clear conscious to follow.

"He needs his rest," Eric whispered, standing beside the bed, still stroking Josh's cheek. "And so do you."

"Says the man with blood leaking out of his ears, besides he is much better than any dream I could have."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're trying to offend me." Eric laughed softly as to not wake Josh.

It took another ten minutes for me to set him down and for the lights to be turned off in the hole. Even though I felt disgusting, Eric still held me tightly, half on top of his chest.

"You were flawless," He kissed the temple of my forehead. "Even through the disgusting body functions, you were perfect."

* * *

><p>"Sookie Stackhouse has returned," Eric said before journeying into the master bathroom. Josh was down for his nap and even at three months, he was looking forward to getting as much sleep as he possibly could. He spent most of his time staring at anything new and feeling it if he could – I didn't quite understand him, but I knew Josh was memorizing everything he came in contact with. He still wasn't very vocal, only making an "oomph" sound if he need my or Eric's attention. Most of the time he only needed my attention to feed, a weird combination of milk and a dash of blood Eric had procured from some willing victim - Josh didn't seem content with simple milk and I refused to feed him sole blood. He was strong, though, already supporting his head with his own neck and had already learned Pam was not one expected to hold him correctly – an amusing transaction to all.<p>

I suspected he was fonder of exploring Eric's house while in my arms than actually being in them, but either way I got to hold him and that was fine by me. If he awoke during the daytime, we'd walk the wooded area around Eric's house, and very rarely would Eric take me to Fangtasia for a couple of minutes. It was mainly to test a human's reaction on our son; Ginger seemed ecstatic to see me and Josh, but it was unclear if her dismissal of anything odd about Josh was because it wasn't noticeable or she was not sharp. His skin was as smooth as when he was born, his eyes as blue and Ginger often said she could feel him looking downright into her soul sometimes, before laughing it off. Eric tried to boast that his son already knew how to glamor, but neither of us really knew what it meant.

There was no mention of our combined smell by any of the patrons, which was promising. Eric hoped that he was the only one who could smell us; a further protective method attached to our supernatural selves. I was in no mood to test anything though; I was in proud mother bear mode and was more than willing to sacrifice more interaction with the world other than the few people who knew about Josh already (although Bill had no spoken a word to us since we declined his offer).

"That's wonderful!" I said loud enough for him to hear all the way inside the bathroom before moving inside. I heard the shower going and took it upon myself to sit on top of the white marble countertop to keep the conversation going. I was still a little heavier than when I wasn't pregnant, but my weight was at the very back of my mind for the most part. "Where did she go, is she okay? Did you tell her about buying her house?"

I had more questions but he cut me off. "We didn't have time to chat, Bill was there."

"Oh," I said, swinging my legs a little as the steam rose from the shower. "Well, I hope she's fine and gets acclimated to home again soonly – she's the only one that could actually babysit Josh."

Eric stuck his head out of the shower with a devilish smirk on his face.

"We don't always need a babysitter."

* * *

><p>"He's adorable," Sookie said, holding onto Josh as he stared up at her. He reached upward toward her forehead twice when she initially held him, I'm sure his way of acknowledging her gift, but he had stopped and simply stared. Sookie said she he wasn't nearly as easy to read as I was, and she could only see a few images every so often, but we were unsure if that was because he didn't have comprehension of words or further "powers".<p>

New discoveries were rarely satisfying in my life anymore.

"Pale, but simply adorable," She cooed at him while we were upstairs in Eric's house. She only agreed to come over when he was sleeping.

"You better not be planning a kidnapping, Sookie Stackhouse" I joked as Josh turned his head to face me when I spoke.

"And have Eric more on my ass than normal, no thank you," She said heatedly before looking sheepish and apologizing for her language. I laughed it off.

"He's a good father," I offered.

"And an even better vampire," Sookie bounced Josh a little in her arms. "But not very good at treating me with respect."

I knew of how crappy he was to her and she had already told me to never apologize for his actions but I still felt bad anyway. After hearing most of her explanation of where she was and her first few days back on Earth, I couldn't help but have sympathy toward her if not confusion. She was a fairy and I was a vessel - we were almost as odd of a couple as Eric and I turned out to be.

"You better not turn into a vampire," She said fervently. "You're one of the only people I can actually trust these days, don't you dare!"

I laughed once again; even though I had made the decision to stay safe with my son, it felt nice to be able to talk with someone outside of my normal circle again. Pam wasn't always great company. She appreciated Joshua's traits that were less annoying than human children, but she had been dead for far too long to retain any maternal instinct and it was too awkward for her to force it.

"I can't promise anything," I said, reaching for my son again. He immediately snuggled into me. "But Eric did say he'd like to wait until I looked less like he was up for statutory rape to even consider turning me.

Besides, who knows how any of this will turn out."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I realize this ending is very...conclusive, but in essence of the series, none of the season finales are _that_ conclusive either. It lends itself to a sequel, but I cannot make promises toward one coming out too fast. At least not until season four ends.**

**Thank you to every single one of you who has alerted and favorited this story. It really made me happy.**

**Thank you to TheInvincibleNerd, Nelle07, Gleekoutx5, Ashley Anomaly, SexyKnickers, ., unftastic, treewitch703, ThatGirl54, and ixamxeverywhere for reviewing!**


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